


Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ

by InterNutter



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Arbour Ardour, Bad date, Fantasy Drug Use, Fountain of Youth, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Little domestic, Luume'irma, Panic Attacks, Partial Nudity, Tumblr Prompt, Vomiting, Young Angus Verse, fuck sazed, tags subject to change without notice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-02-04 12:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 69
Words: 55,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18604795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: Yet another collection of TAZ fanfictions prompted by nice people over on my tumblr (@internutter) presented in assorted AU's depending on the prompts I receive from people who want me to write these things.Everything is PG and I'm fighting to keep it that way.Tags subject to change without warning and dependent entirely on the content. Please check before entering.





	1. Nonny Request #100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can I get some of that Avi trying to set up Sno while Mukaara watches? Also a side of Avi thinking he is best wingman

[AN: This happens before the toothbrush incident]

“So-o-o-o... you got a type or what?”

They were on stake-out, with little to talk about any more, so of course the conversation turned to matters of the heart. Avi was very happy with Johaan and wanted to see that kind of happiness spreading around.

“Stop trying to set me up, Burnsides...” Sno peeked through the binoculars. No movement from the guy they were staking out. He was having a quiet night in. Apparently.

“Hey, if anyone deserves some happiness with a special someone, it's you, buddy.” He added a mock punch. “You’ve been through more than your fair share of shit. You deserve happiness. You deserve love.”

“I can find it on my own. Thanks.”

“At least tell me about your dream date.”

Sno could see him every time she blinked. “Tall. Dark. Nerdy. He’s got this weird laugh and a sorta... skewiff smile. Kind’a awkward, but... honest awkward. The nice guy that doesn’t advertise, you know?”

“Thirty guys at the precinct just lost a bet that you’re a lesbian,” said Avi. “Nerdy types, huh?”

“Yeah. I like me a man with an astonishing grasp of Klingon.”

Avi laughed at that, and the discussion devolved into some areas of nerditry that Avi - a born Jock - was familiar with. But that was the moment that lead, inexorably, inevitably, to one of the most excruciating evenings of Snocoun Ton’s life.

Avi had set her up with a nerd from Miller Labs, a favour he had managed to wrangle after solving some case involving volatile chemicals, smugglers, and a rare species of parrot. Sno had gone along because she thought her partner had somehow found out about a completely  _different_  nerd who also worked for Miller Labs.

For a fleeting moment, Sno daydreamed about not having to come clean because the other man in her life had already figured things out for her.

Then Mukaara bowed Lucas fucking Miller into the restaurant seat opposite her and took a seat at a group table with a bunch of other executive assistants. He made sure he had a good view, the rat bastard.

“Wow,” said Sno, glaring at Avi. He was gurning and making positive hand signals through the window like the over-eager puppy he had to have been reincarnated from. “When he said he had someone high up in Miller Labs, I didn’t expect anyone  _this_  high up.”

Mukaara, over at the assistants’ table, was watching her over his menu with a devilish gleam in his sky-blue eyes.

“I... thought I’d be getting someone a little further down the totem pole. Like an assistant...”

Lucas Miller spat a little as he talked. “Yes, well. I understand your shock and awe. It’s rare that I meet a lady who’s of the right calibre to date someone like me. I mean. You can’t get much higher in the Miller Labs internal structure without going to my Mom and -haha- that’s my job. Haha.”

“Haha,” echoed Sno, deadpan.

In the window behind Miller, Avi was using his fingers as antennae and attempting a Vulcan salute. He rolled ones for his skill check on the latter. He blatantly mouthed,  _Talk nerdy nerd stuff._

“But seriously,” said Miller, “I’m a nice guy and -to be humble- one of the top ten geniuses of our time. I’m more than a little particular about the kind of girl that gets my attention.”

 _Oh shit. Red flag. Abort! Abort!_  Sno looked to the window for Avi, and only saw the tail end of his scarf as one of the restaurant staff shooed him away from the exterior. Mukaara was talking to a waiter and couldn’t get any of her covert signals.

And worse, she’d paid in advance for the table. She’d better eat here or the deposit would have been spent for nothing.

“What kind of girl might that be?” she cooed, playing nice. Maybe if she played all her cards wrong, she could escape this travesty and never have to contact Miller again.

Miller started waxing lyrical about the women he’d had crushes on since childhood. All of them, Sno noted, owed their existence to cell animation. The few she recognised were all the same type - big-busted, addle-brained, cutesey-wutesy doormats.

_Gods, please get me out of here..._

* * *

 

To think, Mukaara pondered, he had been worried that Sno might start falling for his boss. He should never have been so concerned.

Lucas Miller had a type, and it was generally found printed on a cover for a body pillow. Despite that, he expected any flesh and blood woman to pass a trivia test in order to qualify for his attention.

So far, Sno was passing. When she was allowed to get a word in edgewise.

Mukaara watched the disaster unfold. Lucas had already completely failed to notice Sno’s severe lack of interest in him since three seconds in. Sno’s face was a rictus when she wasn’t desperately mouthing,  _Help me!_  in Mukaara’s direction.

Entrees had been survived. The main course arrived with -oh gods- Lucas’ opinion on Elves.

“It’s all well and good saying that terrible things happened in living memory,” he was lecturing, “but Elves live for a million years or more. You guys should take a joke or two.”

“Seven hundred and fifty,” corrected Sno. “Eight hundred if they manage clean living.”

Lucas didn’t appear to hear her. “So what if the Xenophobia wars were in living memory? That could mean a thousand years ago! They ended four hundred years ago.”

“They ended forty years ago,” corrected Sno. “They  _started_  four hundred years ago.”

“They need to let it go.”

“Millions died. Elf kind were almost wiped out.”

“Yes, yes, yes... But it happened so long ago. The damage is repaired. The population is back to normal. Almost beyond normal. There’s no more need to keep crying about it.”

Mukaara flinched. Nope. She wasn’t going to hit him, but it was a close thing.

“Trouble?” said Rinnu.

“Almost. If he keeps talking about the Xenowars, there’s going to be.”

“Yeah?”

“Her  _mother_  was one of the last casualties of the Xenowars...”

Winces, hisses, and whistling backwards. Something expensive was doomed to happen.

“What about your opinion on Steampunk?” said Sno rather desperately. A safe way to move things to something Lucas loved to do - deliver his opinion.

Sno’s expression ranged from relief through boredom, to being ten thousand percent done with everything that came out of Lucas’ mouth.

On the plus side, that particular classification would not include -say- his teeth.

On the minus side... poor Sno was suffering for a fancy dinner.

He’d have to make it up for her at a later date. Perhaps a marathon session of bad food and worse television and a good, solid session of Mock That Movie.


	2. Reader Request #94

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> Do you think Merle gives Taako the elven equivalent of weed for his very obvious anxiety problems? How would Kravitz and Angus (any version) react to high as shit Taako?

It was easy to tell when Taako was stressing out about shit. He had morphing hair and zero control over it, so when it curled, he was freaked out. Its natural state was that of a slightly wooly wave, but here on the moon? He had ringlets on his  _good_  days.

Merle knew his botany, and giving an Elf the traditional de-stresser - extract of Dreamroot - would only make things worse. Elves needed a different source of mellow. Better yet, he had recently been reminded of what that was. On the way to Wave Echo cave, Taako had stopped to pluck a dandelion gone to seed.

He’d blown a good half or more of the seeds off and muttered, “Some for the wild,” and then tucked the rest, and some leaves, into a little pouch that also held a very small clay pipe in its folds. Their Elf wizard was also a ‘lion fiend.

No wonder he was stupid as fuck. He spent most of his life high as a kite on dandelions. Given how stressed out he was, Merle could see why.

There were no dandelions on the moon. Everything up on the Bureau base was carefully catered, meticulously planned, and rigidly controlled. There were no ‘lion fiends on the moon. Well. There hadn’t been until Taako had been forced to go cold turkey by the surrounds he was trapped in.

So he had taken a trip down to some vacant lots on the surface, and harvested some seeds before coming back up with some cover shopping.

A few little ceramic pots. A few measures of good, rich soil. A quiet place with sunshine that nobody could find... and there were dandelions on the moon. He carefully selected some of the beginning leaves and dried them according to the proper specifications, bundling them up in a little envelope of waxed paper.

The next meeting Taako attended, Merle slipped him the envelope. “From the department of Don’t Tell the Director.”

He peeked. “Aaaww... yiss...”

* * *

 

Angus McDonald, fresh new Seeker for the Bureau of balance, had crept out after the Wizard Reclaimer known as Taako. He was an enigma. A self-proclaimed idiot wizard who somehow managed to have a ‘moment of clarity’ that solved the entire case.

He was pretty sharp, actually. Angus suspected that Taako might be playing the fool at expert levels.

Taako’s braids were tight and stiff, standing out against his skull and looking almost ready to snap. He busied himself with something small that easily fit in the cup of his hand. There was a sparkle of Prestidigitation and a hint of small flame. Taako inhaled deeply, held that breath, and the golden braids fell loose and lax. Still perfect, because Elves never had a hair out of place, but far less curly than it usually was.

A plume of smoke smelling vaguely like burning leaf litter, and Taako was leaning, far more relaxed, against the corner he had once only had his shoulder propped against. He fought outright collapse and mumbled, “Dayumn, Merle... That’s some shit...”

Angus knew what this was. “You smoke ‘lion, sir?”

Taako looked. “Aw shit.” A sigh. A different curse. “Yeah. I got like... hypertension or some shit. I take it to chill out. Keeps me off’a the panic attacks.”

“I’d heard dandelion had some medicinal use for Elves, sir. But... how is it possible to take more of a hit than you intended?”

“How’d you...? Wait. World’s greatest detective. Yeah.” He pondered the smouldering remnants in the pipe and snuffed it. “Thing is... thing is... thing... thing... Thing is... Merle... has to fuck. With  _everything.”_  He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Especially plants. It gets gross.  _Real_  gross.”

Angus connected the dots despite Taako’s evident inebriation. “Mr Highchurch has been breeding stronger dandelions.”

“Kind’a lucky he wasn’t breeding  _with_  them,” mumbled Taako. “Every fuckin’ time he slides me a new supply, it’s...” He wavered. Drooped. Shook himself back to consciousness. “Way stronger. Way, way,  _way,_  way stronger.”

Angus helped him sit down before he fell down. “Sir, if you know it’s stronger, why don’t you cut back on your dosage?”

Taako attempted to focus and rolled ones five times in a row. “Kid,” he said. “I’m awready  _doin’_  that.”


	3. Reader Request #95

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DeathsKitten on Chapter 95 of Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ:   
> Omg. Oh no. Oh I would love to read about the aftermath of this! What did Taako get into? What did he have to say to the crew for letting him run off into Gods know what?

There was definitely a peculiar lassitude following luume'irma. Like getting out of a warm hot tub after hours just relaxing in there. Taako didn't particularly want to escape this particular warm pool, but the pressures of life and living were infiltrating his awareness and making themselves insistent on his fight to remain warm and comfortable.

For starters, he really needed to pee.

Secondly, a sunbeam was drilling away at one of his eyes. He shifted and a cloud of past-sex smell plumed out from the disturbed linen he had moved in the process. Four... five... no. _Seven_  people. None of them familiar to him.

Where was Barold? Where was  _Lup?_ They'd rode this wild wave together since their first one in Neverwinter Academy when the Campus Guard had had to fill them full of Fantasy Elephant Tranq's just to safely isolate them. And further, just who the fuck had he fucked whilst in the thrall?

Taako growled a little as someone started fucking with his left ear, making it flick as they giggled. He mumbled, "Don't..." and finally surrendered to open an eye.

Velvet curtains. Fine linen sheets. Someone well-fed and well-off was wearing a sheer silken nightie. "Good morning, Champion."

"Mmrrrf," Taako stretched out some kinks. "Don't feel that great..." Three of the seven were still here. He could see this one, someone's leg, and someone else's arm under the tangle of covers. The scents matched. "Listen," he said, trying to think after what appeared to be a banger episode of Luume. "I don't remember what I did over the last coupl'a days, but you're happy with it and that's fine." Where the fuck was the chamber pot? Or did this lot have indoor privies? Where the fuck were his  _clothes?_ "Thing is... that's not how I am... usually? So if you're hangin' around for a repeat performance..." He racked his scattershot brain. Which lot were this lot? How did they feel about homosexuality? At least these three were cool with an obviously-different alien. "Also I really need the privy, so unless ya like stinky potplants..."

An older man emerged from the covers. "...oh there he went," he mumbled and flopped back down again.

The woman in the silk nightie got up and walked - a little unsteadily - to a side door and revealed, not just an indoor privy, but an indoor bathing facility with everything one could want. The entire _Starblaster_ could fucking park in there. Taako zoomed for the porcelain throne and relieved himself. He ignored the giggles and whispering. These folks had seen him naked already and hadn't found him wanting. Still, a shit-shower-and-not-shave combo should at least see him thinking in a straight line again.

"We would wrap you in silks, lord," offered one of the women. "Truly, you are god to contend with."

Wait. What? "This isn't one of those deals where the living deity gets beheaded, is it?" Taako asked. "I've done that before and it sucks. So lemme just say right now, I am a mortal being, and I don't like dying. Not fond of it. I do have magical powers, but I'm not about to reshape your society just 'cause I'm on your pedestal. We cool?" Hee started brushing his hair, only to have the people he'd literally screwed over take over the task as if it were an act of reverence.

"All as is prophesied," said the dude, offering something resplendent in a deep crimson. "Seven in red shall come, and the living herald of the god of love and fertility shall be among them, though we know them not when they arriveth, they shall reveal themselves in the full of the moons."

The 'arriveth' was enough like a prophecy in Taako's addled head. "Living herald, huh? Can't say I'm familiar with the biz. What is up with that?"

"You, lord, are the herald of the foretold god of love and fertility. His divine essence has ridden your body and chosen your face as their likeness for their worshippers to revere."

"...flattered," allowed Taako. He wasn't about to tell them that this was a semi-regular thing for him. The rich brocade robe was kind'a nice, too. "Just a few questions. Where am I and who are all o' y'all?"

"We are the Royal House, the seven heads of the seven families who have ruled this land and kept your treasure beyond your reach."

_Oh fuck..._ "It was bait, wasn't it? You were waiting f'r... one of us to turn up as a deity?"

"Yes, lord," the women re-doing his hair added something heavy to his head. Taako felt the cool kiss of metal and guessed from the weight that it was gold. "We have all felt the might of the divine passions of the new god."

"Uhuh," said Taako. They had felt the brunt of a really hefty Luume sesh and were suitably impressed. Big shock. "Like you guys and probably half of the people who tried to stop me, right?"

"Half the palace," said the other woman. "We all know better than to resist the attentions of an avatar of a new god."

"Cool... coool... So. Not about to be beheaded. Still... divine?"

"Yes, Lord."

"None of y'all are unhappy about this?"

"No, Lord."

He thought about keeping the crown or whatever they'd plonked on his head, but returned to the mish. "And... you got no more reason to -uh- hang on to the Light, right?"

"That is correct, Lord."

He knew something was up, and he knew there would be a price to pay. And he could not stop himself asking too many questions. "So I can just like, pick up the Light and waltz right on out of here, no caveats?"

"No, Lord."

Damn.

Of course they had to hold a fucking parade. Everyone he had touched during Luume was wearing red. Some were holding those wearing red up. He had fucked a path of devastation right across this fucking town. Well. Not devastation. Everyone was happy about this. They had him up on a litter and were throwing petals and flower wreaths as he held the Light with one arm and waved regally with the other. Knowing the effects of Luume, probably about eighty percent of these women were pregnant with half-Elven twins.

Four people in red were  _not_ cheering and smiling. Magnuts, Merle, Luce -documenting everything as always- and Cap'n'port himself.

Taako's smile turned into a rictus as he waved to his commanding officer. Cap'n'port boggled in his general direction and made the universal handsign for,  _What the fucking fuck, Taako?_

He could only shrug. He had no fucking clue, either.


	4. Reader Request #96

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aliens vs Dragons -- @jazzmaster009

“One small step for an Elf... one... giant leap for Elven kind.”

“Taako, do you  _have_  to do this every single time you put first foot on another world?”

“It’s luck, homie. Every time I say those words, my sister and I  _don’t_  beef it that year.”

“Oh, so you’re fine, the rest of us can go hang.”

“Dude, as long as one of us is alive to fly the Starblaster, we’re  _all_  fine.”

“Just leave him alone, Magnus-dear. My poor dumb baby brother does like his superstitions.”

Lyyrn peeked out from the shrubbery in which she was hiding. So far, these invaders weren’t doing anything worse than arguing with each other. But that didn’t make them any less strange and frightening.

They were peculiar things. Bigger than her; but everyone said she was still a baby. They walked on two legs like a trained bear, and only two among the seven were alike. There was the big hairy one, the small really hairy one, the small not-so-hairy one with the flame-red tuft of hair. There was the really dark one with the really pale hair, the really pale one with the sort-of dark hair... and then those two.

They all had really weird skin that flapped around them as they moved. Red and shiny with gold. The two almost-identical ones had long hair that flowed out and over the red, but some of it was under a different container of some sort. A big red cone on top of their heads.

They all had funny black feet. Really weird black legs, too. Lyyrn was fascinated by the way they walked around without once needing to drop to all fours. But then, they didn’t have tails like Lyyrn’s tail.

“I am liking this planet,” said the one they called Taako. He was reaching up and plucking fruit off the trees. Sniffing their flesh. “Nice landing area, plenty of forage...”

“No light,” said one of the small ones. Lyyrn had to wonder if they were like babies. They were smaller even than her baby sister, and she was  _tiny._

“Oh sure, sure. Rain on my fuckin’ parade. Make the best of what’s there, I always say.”

“Is that a Taako Original?” teased the one who looked just like Taako.

“Eheheheheh,” mocked Taako. “You’re  _so_  funny.”

Then the big hairy one parted the bushes where Lyyrn had been hiding. His weird, flat face split open to show even weirder teeth. “Guys,” he whispered, “I found a  _dragon...”_

“We are  _not_  taking it with us,” said the little one with the red tufts. That one sounded so much like a Mama that Lyyrn really wondered what was  _up_  with these alien creatures.

She froze, resorting to baby instinct and not even thinking about her elemental breath.

“Aaw, did I scare da poor widdle ting,” cooed the big hairy one. “Iss okay... iss okay.” It put its paw by her nose, and a very odd smell invaded her nostrils. Not like anyone or anything she knew. That paw ran gently over her scales as he cooed, “There, there, there... I won’t hurt you.” And let her sniff again. Its scent and her scent mingled.

That was a trick for animals. “I’m not an animal,” she said. “Lea’me alone or Mama’s gonna  _get_  you.”

“Oh tits,” said Taako.

“Fucking  _run!”_  yelled the copy.

Mama came to the rescue, swooping down and making all the aliens rush for their silver... thing. A thing that lifted off from the ground and sailed to a safe distance in precisely the way that clouds didn’t.

Mama scooped her up and flew her back to the nest and spent most of the evening watching the night sky for silver  _things._

Three days later, the silver  _thing_  hovered like a cloud. Right where Lyyrn and Mama could see it. It was not doing anything at all. Just... staying there. Carefully out of breath range.

If Lyyrn squinted, she could see the small really hairy one being held up on the front of the silver  _thing_  by the big hairy one.

Mama made Lyyrn stay in the nest as she did a fly-by. There were words. The aliens talked low and soft and so did Mama. No matter how much Lyyrn leaned on the edge of the nest, she couldn’t make out what was said.

Mama came up to the nest, and the silver  _thing_  followed. Lyyrn hunkered back down in the nest, watching as they both flew closer. She feared the  _thing,_  but Mama trusted it enough to let it come close. Mama knew what was safe. Lyyrn had to trust Mama.

The strangers were... weird... but they were okay. They were friendly aliens. The big, hairy one - Magnus - apologised for trying animal tricks on her. They told all kinds of wonderful stories, and even though they were odd, they were nice.

It took Lyyrn all of two hours to forget about being afraid of them.


	5. Reader Request #97

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> I said twins and MAK bonding you dum dum :P
> 
> [AN: That you did. I am a dummins]

It was a beautiful town. High-class folk. Lots of beautiful things. Lots of nicely portable, small, shiny,  _valuable_  things on display for any light-fingered person happening by to help themselves.

Which was what Lulu and Koko had just been caught doing by the City Watch.

“We were just lookin’,” Lulu lied. “We’re gonna put ‘em right back.”

One of them slit open her poke. More glittering tchotchkes spilled to the cobbled streets.

“Oh my gods,” Koko attempted. “Sir, we’ve been selected as some vile footpad’s patsy! We had no idea those things were in there...”

“My babies! Oh, my babies!” A glittering, glimmering vision descended on them from a set of stairs like a cloud of glamour wrapped in feathers, rich velvet, and gleaming gold. She sailed over like a conquering galleon. She had pearls at her throat and what appeared to be diamonds in her hair.

The twins almost didn’t recognise her as shy, mousy, softly-spoken Mak’arune.

“Oh you found my poor innocent babies,” she cooed, sweeping the twins into her arms and kissing them both heartily. “Have they hurt you, my darlings?” she wheeled on the guard with the knife. “How  _dare_  you accost my babies and damage their property! Do you have any  _idea_  who I  _am?”_

Her arrogance sold it, the guards immediately bowed and scraped, tugging at their forelocks. “No, m’m. Our apologies, m’m.”

_“Your Grace,”_  she hissed. “I demand immediate recompence  _at once_  for your astonishingly ignorant behaviour. My babies are clearly distraught at this grievous insult.”

Lulu and Koko took the hint and burst into crocodile tears, with cries of ‘Mommy!” and accusations of gross violence.

In less than five minutes, the guards were falling over themselves to press the purloined pieces on her and the twins, and hustling them towards a fine clothier so the twins could be outfitted appropriately, “So the same mistake can’t happen again, your Grace.”

Koko had a panic attack in the changing room, cushioned against Mak’arune’s bosom and listening to her soft, parental purring. “That was so close,” he kept saying. “We nearly lost our ears. Lost our hands. Lost our lives...”

“Close only counts in Horseshoes and fireballs,” Mak’arune soothed. “Just breathe, now. We’re safe. Safe and sound.”

Lulu was still shocked and awed. “That’s the most phenomenal scam I have ever seen. What the fuck, Mak?” She smirked, “Or should I call you ‘your Grace’?”

“Mommy works,” she smiled. Luume’irma had been milder to her, but she still counted the twins as her babies. “Mommy works very well indeed.”

All the same, they didn’t even try shoplifting for the rest of their time in that town.


	6. Nonny Request #101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Hey, what if in the Baby Birds AU, a really nice teacher like Mak tries to stop Ango from stinking because she was raised that way and when confronted about it she apologizes to Ango and wants to learns more. AKA, let an adult be ignorant without being mean.

[AN: *stimming, not stinking. Three Bronx Cheers for autocorrect]

Angus McDonald, fresh adoptee of the Fangbattles, skipped into his new class as if he was walking on air. When he walked out, it was under a metaphorical raincloud and the hunch-shouldered attitude of someone who would much rather be condemned to death than go back into that one room again.

Of course the twins noticed in a cold second, homing in on easy tells like a sudden stillness and quiet in a formerly exuberant boy. Gone was the happy, infodumping chatterbox and in his place was a sullen doppelganger. A ghost that the family had thought they banished with love and encouragement.

Koko and Lulu took him in between them and made an Angus Sandwich with each twin as half of the 'bun'. They tried purring for him. They tried gently twining the curls of his hair. They tried Being With him. They even tried getting him to blow on dandelion puffs or thistle seeds.

It was no use. Angus had become a block.

It was worse than when he'd been a ward of the orphanage. He'd retreated into himself, there, too... but they expected a modicum of interaction. This time, he'd shut off from even the safest and friendliest interactions.

Koko, the more sensitive of the twins, had tears spilling from his eyes. Fat, thick, plentiful ones that wouldn't stop. Lulu twirled a lock of her hair and recited the silly name rhyme that used to make him giggle.

"Ango McDango dance the fandango, eat up a mango and tango with me..." she singsonged. "Your coat we can hango up over the frango, this song we have sango for you and for we..."

Not even the vaguest twitch of a smile. This was bad.

They pulled their coats up over their heads and made a sort of coat tent that shut out a lot of light and petted his hands and whispered validation into his tiny, cute, round humanman ears.

"We love you," and, "It's going to be okay," and, "We want to help," and, when it all got too frightening, "Please come back to us?"

Angus didn't pet their hands, or say, "I'm okay," even when he wasn't. He just sat there and breathed and stared at nothing. Occasionally, he would blink, but he otherwise showed no further signs of coming back out.

Not even 'painting' his skin with the tips of their braids would lure him back into the world.

Someone tapped Koko on his shoulder. He emerged from their tent and so did Lulu. They were both in tears and beside themselves with worry. It was Miss Mak'arune. Thee nicest, friendliest teacher in the entire world.

"Did you miss the bell? It's time to go into class."

Angus moved. He picked up his hands from his knees and interlaced his fingers and squeezed his hands together so hard that the skin went white.

Koko put it together in two seconds. "Did you tell our Angus to have Quiet Hands?"

Lulu had her hands over her mouth. It was like finding out that the Erastide Hare ate unwary children instead of hiding colourful eggs for the spring festival. Or that Father Candles stole the toys of poor children to gift them to the rich. It just could not be possible. "You didn't," Lulu felt like bursting into tears and running all the way home. "Please tell me you didn't. I thought you were nice..."

Miss Mak'arune crouched down so she was on their eye-line. "It's policy. Noisy hands distract the other students and we have to keep everything in line so everyone can learn. It's a simple process and it doesn't hurt..."

Koko was on his feet in instants. "WHY DON'CHA CUT OUT HIS TONGUE 'CAUSE HE TALKS TOO MUCH?" he screamed. "IT'S THE SAME THING!" Then he scooped up Ango into his arms and ran and ran and ran. He knew Lulu would be close behind. That was the way the world worked.

They only got a mile away from the school gate before their legs flagged and the stress of everything overwhelmed them. Lulu found a pocket in the briars where they could hide and at least plot their next move or, like Koko did, just kind of fold up and cry about everything bad that had just happened.

Lulu tried to plot their next move with Koko going to pieces and Angus just... not present. They clearly couldn't go back to school. Not with a Quiet Hands policy. They couldn't go home. Principal Davenport would have called their Moms by now. Which meant that they couldn't go home.

Koko cried himself out and sighed. "Well, it was a nice home while it lasted," he said. He must have reached the same conclusion far, far sooner than Lulu had. He always went with the worst alternative first, as it saved time. "Where next? Phandalin? Halverdale? North Haverbrook?"

"Home would be nice," said Mama Carey. Of course she'd found them. She was a Rogue, and knew every trick. Including, as evident, how to sneak up on all of them and listen in to what there was of the conversation. "But I get you're upset. I'm listening if you wanna talk."

Angus was still a block, and the twins babbled out everything they knew. It was just as bad as the first days, Mama. Remember when he shut down? Like a whole week and he was just... he was block Angus. Not doing nothing, you remember? It's happening again 'cause of how they made him do Quiet Hands. It's evil, Mama. That school is straight up evil.

Lightning briefly crackled behind her teeth. Mama Carey took ten deep breaths and walked off to make a few Stone calls.

"Mama's here," Lulu tried. "She'll keep you safe like last time. Remember? Mama and Mom kept you outta the bad place."

Angus' eyes moved, very briefly. He was hiding deep inside, and that was his first peek back into the outside.

Mama came back. She said, "Okay. We're all meeting up with the Principal, Miss Mak'arune, and Mom, back at the school. We're going to sort this out for the good of all. I won't let you get hurt again, okay?"

* * *

 

Angus rocked gently in his seat. Lulu and Koko were on either side of him and Mom and Mama were on either side of them, helping him feel safe. He still clutched at his elbows when Miss Mak'arune entered the room and whimpered a little. The twins closed up around him and Koko growled a little.

Principal Davenport sat on a desk and tented his fingers. "Let's talk," he said. "I understand that young Mr McDonald has had a significant upset in regards to... quiet hands..."

"It's despicable," said Mom Killian. "It's teaching autistic kids that they can't express themselves. It's the worst of oppression."

"We're gonna need a week of Intensive Interaction just to get him back to normal," said Mama.

"Intensive...?" Miss Mak'arune echoed. "I've never heard of anything else other than ABA... it came highly recommended in all the papers..."

"Yeah, highly recommended by all those who hate autistic kids," said Lulu. "It's people who believe that kids like Angus are burdens who think that that sort of stuff is actually good."

"Look what it did to him," said Koko. "He's blocking the world. He's scared to say or do anything with anyone or anything."

"They used to do something similar when he was in the orphanage," said Mama. "It was horrible. Horrible."

Miss Mak'arune had gone red. Her eyes were overflowing. "Ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness," she whimpered. "I had no idea, I'm so sorry. Angus, sweetie, I never meant any harm... I swear. I thought I was doing good. I know I was wrong. Sir. We have to learn better ways. Now."

Principal Davenport was a man of few words. He listened to all of this with tented fingers and an intense expression. He finally said, "I agree. Let's listen to the people who know the most about this issue. All of them."

* * *

 

It took a month. One week for Angus to come back into being himself. Three weeks for the moms to gather some experts, books, and evidence, and create a special presentation for the teaching staff at Miller's.

Angus was a willing participant in some of the Interaction methods. Education about what Stimming was, and meant, and how it was a means of expression for some. How to read an Autistic kid, when they didn't always show the best of emotions or show them consistently with neurotypical means of reading.

The most important lesson, the best lesson, was that an Autistic kid didn't have to be a burden, if one was willing to take a journey into their world.


	7. Reader Request #98

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kat on Chapter 1 of A Little Domesticity:  
> Magnus???!!?!?!? I need to know more about my boy please?

Clean-up after the fact of a hostage situation was terrible, so of course the Chief gave it to Sno. She should have been receiving a medal of bravery from the Mayor or something, but no. Elves didn't get acknowledgement unless the public cried out for it, and they weren't going to be doing that any time soon. The Xenophobia  _wars_ may be over, but the xenophobia lingered on.

Sno was used to it. The reward for a shitty job well done was yet another shitty job. Possibly a shittier one, though it was hard to top scraping up families following a domestic dispute turned hostage hold-out and drug cartel combo.

Something... was off. Something had changed since she'd been there the day before. Forensics was still sweeping up the lab in the basement, attic, and three of the seven bedrooms, so her patrol was the front and back yard for any further evidence. While she didn't have a photographic memory, there was a definite difference in the trash. Something had been going through it.

Sno got on her radio. "Be advised, there may be a pet on the premises. Could also be a raccoon or a possum..." She tiptoed into the yard, being sure to silence the gate's squeak as she did so. There were mountains of debris in the back yard. A trailer, almost buried under scrap and empty bottles and random pieces of decaying lumber. Half a car, almost buried under a drift of tyres and bicycle parts. And a plastic dog house, almost buried under rusting car parts.

There was a chain, and a recent disturbance in the packed earth, and... Those weren't dog prints. Those were hands and toes.

She got on the radio. "Cancel that call for animal services. Get a bus and some hot food. There's a kid back here."

Someone in dispatch swore. They had swept the house for inhabitants, but not the yard.

Sno sat and tried to appear non-threatening. Not her strongest skill. "There's help coming," she said in a singsong voice. "They'll have some proper food for you, but... I got jerky." She made a show of taking out the packet she usually kept for dealing with dogs. She opened it up and split a big piece in half, putting one half in her mouth and offering the other half to the cavern within the engine blocks and doors. "It's okay," she said. "See? I'm eating it. It's fine."

The kid that came out was so filthy that Sno could not initially tell his skin tone. There was a choke chain around his neck that attached to the longer chain that had a winding length to a post set in deep concrete. He was dressed only in a tank top and some underpants, and his hair was matted and uneven. There were crusting flakes of blood and dark patches under the dirt. She could see his joints poking out on either side of stick-thin limbs. If he pulled up his tank top, Sno had no doubt that she would see his ribs.

He said, "Am I good enough t' be allowed to eat, now?"

"Of course you are," she said. "It's okay. It's all okay."

He snatched the jerky off her open fingers and huddled back in the door of the plastic house as he crammed it quickly into his mouth. The fact that he picked up an axe handle to defend himself was telling.

Sno patiently waited, letting him take piece after piece of jerky. She told him her name, and what she was doing there, and what happened to the rest of his family.

His name was Magnus, and he was distantly related to one of the women of the household, or so they said. He was wicked, and evil, and the proof was the fact that he kept messing up and winding up in the doghouse. Literally. The big man was teaching him to behave proper, and if Mags was good enough, he'd be allowed to have food. If he was really good, he'd be allowed inside, and have clothes, and be allowed to get clean. It was his fault, he said, for always picking fights with Elrestle Kalen.

Sno asked, "How old is this Elrestle Kalen?"

"Old. Like nineteen or something."

"And... how do you start these fights?"

"I don't even know," Mags protested. "That's why I'm so bad. I can't even tell how I start it, but El says I do, so I gotta be starting it. He just walks right on up and socks me in the gut and then..." he jerked a thumb at the doghouse. "I'm wicked."

Sno edged the chain off him. "You're not wicked. They... they were..." What would be the right word. "They made a mistake." She wrapped him up in her coat, and eased him into her arms. "They made a lot of mistakes, and they're taking time out... and... you're gonna get a new home."

The CPS would see to it that he would get a bath and proper meals and shelter, and he might even think it was the best deal, but... He needed better security than a foster home or a grey-walled orphanage. He needed better than the official channels. Besides, she'd seen the ruin that official channels could wreak.

There were a few strings she could pull. A home that he could go to where he would be more than cleaned and fed and clothed and sheltered. A place where he would be loved. She knew. Avi and Johaan had been working for so long and working so hard at being adoptive parents. All to no success so far.

Sno knew people who owed her big. Who would help in any way they could. Sure, it would cost her another year or three of official notice and recognition, but... what else was new?

She got out her phone and dialled one of the numbers. "Hey, it's me," she said. "You remember the little business last year? I'm collecting."

* * *

 

Magnus clung tight to Officer Sno's hand as they climbed the stairs in the block of flats. So far, there had been a hospital, and a bunch of people in white coats, and needles, but there had been lots of good food and he was always comfortable and rarely cold, so it balanced out.

"I thought foster homes were full of people," he said. There were twin Elves peering at him from a higher railing, and a small Naga peeked down the stairs at him.

"This is... a different kind of foster home. These two are just starting. It'll be you and them for... some time, I think."

There was a door just like any other door, and a number. And a doorknob. Officer Sno knocked.

_"What's Aunty Nono up to?"_ one of the Elves whispered.

_"Who's that kid?"_ whispered the other one.

The door opened, revealing a grownup Human, similar in colour to Magnus, and a darker-skinned Half-Elf just behind him. "Hey, pardner. Hi, little guy."

"Ohmygods, he's adorable," said the Half-Elf. "And this is okay with everyone?"

"It'd better be," said Officer Sno.

The Human offered his hand. "My name's Avi Burnsides, and this is my husband Johaan. We'd... we..."

"We'd like to be your dads," said Johaan.

"Whoah..." Magnus whispered. "For reals?"

"For reals," said the new dads together.


	8. Nonny Request #102

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I never see Lucas used enough in stories can we get some Lucas and Sno romance?

[AN: You did read the same story I wrote, right? I can’t cement  _that_  kind of Lucas with Sno. However...]

She wasn’t his type. He knew it. She was a ‘column’ while he preferred an ‘hourglass’. Even then, the ones in meatspace were never ‘hourglass’ enough for his fancy. If only he could make animation real... But that was still beyond his scientific grasp.

In the meantime, real women confounded him. They never had the same rule set from girl to girl. They never followed The Game, they never acted like they should. They were never predictable.

Especially this one. Snocoun Ton. She was the exact opposite of everything he wanted in a woman. Flat where he expected shape. Tall where she should have been short. Possessing opinions where she should have been agreeable.

Yet he could not stop thinking about her.

That low fire in her eyes, like a wild storm. Energy waiting to be unleashed, and held back by the thinnest of facades. She exuded unresolved tension and he could sense that it was aimed at him.

He tried to take his mind off it by watching some previews on his computer. She’d never call him back. They never did, and he never minded. Usually, a good half hour’s exposure to proper women - animated women - would scour his brain clean of even thinking about the lady he had been with that night.

Not this time.

This time, the previews included one about history. Sort of. Historical fiction about the xenophobia wars and a Beach Elf torn between two or more loves. The dates couldn’t be right. The Xenophobia wars ended four hundred years ago, but this was  _set_  four hundred years ago and was about how they  _started._

Lucas did some googling and journeys through an extended wiki walk and learned...

She had been right.

_She looked just like the maiden in the anime..._

The producers had done a lot of homework to set this one in a plausibly accurate time and place. Where things could have taken a different path,  _if only..._

In this show,  _Fires in Elfington,_  they bragged about how it was the first Humanman drama to cast Elves in a sympathetic light inside of five hundred years. Lucas absorbed all the extra material they had around on the internet and even managed to catch the premier episode.

He was even more enraptured than before. All they had to do was change the heroine’s hair from deep plum to a fiery red and she would be the spitting image of Snocoun Ton.

Inspired, Lucas decided to see what was available online about her. Just to sate his curiosity and realise that she was not an animated girl come to life.

Oh shit. She might be.

She fought injustice at every turn. Just like the animated Syn’amon. She struggled against oppression and prejudice, just like Syn’amon. She did everything she could for lost, abandoned, or orphaned kids. Just like Syn’amon. She let opportunities for advancement slide by for the greater good... just like Syn’amon.

By three AM, Lucas had seen the second episode of  _Fires in Elfington,_  and had developed a raging crush. Not just for Syn’amon, but also for her true flesh doppelganger, Snocoun Ton.

The next dawn saw him scouring the internet for material - any material - about episode three. He was so desperate that he was trawling through the fanfiction already springing up about the show.

Then he found an interesting article. The show creators had looked to real world examples for their characters and... there was a picture of Officer Ton with a small child carried in her coat right next to a picture of Syn’amon nursing a bear cub in a similar pose.

He read every word and saved it into his growing fandom file. No wonder Officer Ton looked like Syn’amon. She  _was_  Syn’amon.

When he finally went to sleep, he dreamed of her. Skipping through the mangroves like her animated counterpart, fighting evil. Righting wrongs. Rescuing him and falling in love...

It was a glorious dream.

It was so influential on him that he felt he had to make amends. A big bunch of flowers, for sure. Ladies loved flowers.

He tracked down her precinct offices and asked to see here as soon as it was convenient. She was likely out, busy being a hero. Whilst not exactly rescuing bear cubs from forest fires, she was certainly rescuing the weak and helpless from the forces of terror. Even if they were the more mundane ones, like domestic abuse or fights between different adults. Or saving them from gangs or kissing some guy by the vending machines - what?

He was a stringbean of a fellow. Dark grey skin, pale, pale blond hair.

_She looks so different when she smiles like that..._  he thought. Then, as his brain caught up with current events,  _Is that my executive assistant?_

Officer Ton noticed him, and the smile fell off her face. In an instant, a professional mask was in the place of genuine emotion. It was an expression eerily similar to the one she had worn on their date, the previous evening.

Realisation hit him like a bucket of cold, stale vomit.  _Oh..._  He offered the flowers anyway and said, “I came to apologise for being a jerk,” he said. “You were right. You were right about everything. I’m sorry.”

“Uh. Thanks,” said Officer Ton.

Mukaara was wearing casual nerd, instead of the suit he wore on the job. His T-shirt said,  _I’m not stupid, I’m not expendable, and I’m not going._  The jeans he had on were headed slowly towards being disreputable. “Is there a problem at the office, sir?” he said.

Lucas fought with his newfound ethics. He could make one up that would keep Mukaara busy for hours on end, and therefore gain some time with Officer Ton, but... She would not appreciate the ruse. “No,” he said, realising that she could also plausibly kick his ass as well. “I just... I just came to say sorry. I’ll be... working on some stuff by myself. You know how it goes.”

“Have fun, sir,” said Mukaara.

Lucas spent a moment in heartsore agony watching his assistant kiss his crush. Her ears actually flirted with being veretical when she was with him. At all other times, they were pointed down. She was happy. With Mukaara. Not him. “You too,” he said, and meant it.

It was a strange creature that shambled back to his lab to noodle on his random projects. He looked like Lucas Miller, he answered to that name. In all ways but the metaphysical, he  _was_  Lucas Miller. Except...

Something enormous had changed. Something profound had altered his soul.

He had found... courtly love; and he was going to use it to change the world.

But first... he just  _had_  to order that Syn’amon body pillow cover from Geeklord dot com.


	9. Reader Request #99

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QueenKara671 on Chapter 3:
> 
> More? Please? Maybe?

Taako breathed a sigh of relief when he placed the Light in its appointed place on the Starblaster's bridge. As safe, sound, and secure as it could get on this madhouse journey in this madhouse ship and on this madhouse world. "The good news," he said, "Is that I got the Light for us. The bad news is, now I'm a god or something. Sorry, Lulu. I'm probs gonna beef it before the year runs out."

Lup, appropriately rumpled and a little dozy from her post-luume recovery period, blinked at Taako's illogic. "What the shit?"

"Uh, you're a _god,"_ said Magus. "That's like a blank cheque to do whatever the hell you want whenever the hell you want and get away with it. We got ourselves a natural advantage for whatever else we wanna do here."

"Yeah, you'd think that," said Taako. "Listen. I've seen _The Man Who Would Be King_. Nothing good ever comes outta sudden onset deification whilst also alive, m'kay? Taako's walkin' on eggshells for the rest of the fuckin' year."

"...um," said Lucretia, fading out of the background. "I've been listening to some of the things the people have been saying," she waved her journal as proof. "You're not a god, Taako. You're a god's living avatar. A herald of change and omens."

Taako's hair tightened into a puff of golden frizz. "Oh shit, that's even worse. Well... there's definite change comin'. They might not like hearing it but we gotta at least warn them of the hunger."

"I've been doing that for four months," said Davenport. "Now that a god's on my side, they- they might listen."

"If I die, you're gonna hear about it all next year," snapped Taako. "Maybe five of them. Dying fucking hurts, I hate it."

Davenport smirked. "That's a given."

Taako ran himself through five of his calming exercises and actually got changed into his uniform. He normally hated the look, preferring to wear literally anything else, but for this? Red was the colour to wear. He did, however, add the laurel wreath to his hat as he marched with his Captain for the Palace of the Seven Crowns. Lup trailed along, letting Barry catch up on his sleep. She walked beside him and smirked at a clearly audible volume.

"Barold made good on his threat, huh?"

"Yeah, looks like."

"All those people wearing red?"

"Yup." He popped the final P. "All of them."

She boggled. "Holy shit, that's a _lot."_

"Go big or go home," he said, covering up that this was a mark of shame for him. "Since we can't go home..."

"I mean a real lot."

"It's been a while."

"Actually," she said, "It's been a while without using the 'off switch'. I'm starting to think using it amplifies the next unregulated attack..." Lup walked backwards for a few paces to stare at a group of ten women in red who were laughing at some shared joke. Probably her brother. "If we're gonna worry, I'd worry about the next time Luume hits and the others aren't prepared."

Taako snorted. "Cap'n'port's prepared. He'll hand us a dolly and make us think it's a sick baby. Sure, it'll be like Daisy all over again, but..." he shrugged. "We'll survive."

Taako was getting used to insanity like this. He'd seen, heard, and been wounded by bullshit like this before. He'd buried every single one of his crewmates and been buried himself. Not that he liked having any of that happen, but... It happened anyway.

Four of the seven monarchs were waiting in the throne room. On new, thicker, softer pillows. Okay. Maybe Lup was right. Maybe this _was_ something to be concerned about. For now, though, he preferred to be concerned about his own skin. He could worry about keeping his crew safe, and worry about himself. After this year? He'd never have to worry about these people ever again.

"So listen," he began, while they were staring at his sister. "There's big trouble comin' and Cap here can fill you in. It's all good having a new god and everything, but trouble is still coming whether I made y'all happy or not."

"As prophecied," one of the four breathed.

Ho boy... Taako looked to Lup, who gave him a one-shouldered shrug and a look that said, _Work with it. What can you lose?_

Taako looked at her as if to say, _You know..._

On the plus side, they _were_ listening. And since he had their best interests in his grasp, there was the hope that this might all work out for a change.


	10. Reader Request #100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Taako makes coffee, Sno makes tea. Merle faints

The coffeepot in the fantasy percolator had been allowed to boil almost to dry. Merle stared as Taako refreshed the coffee grounds and filter, and filled the boiler with more water. It was nine at night, and Taako shuffled towards his bedchamber.

“Uh. You didn’t clean out the pot,” said Merle.

“Shyeah. Duh. I want some really strong fuckin’ coffee, my dude.”

“That’s gonna be almost boiled dry by the morning,” he warned.

“That’s my plan.”

He got up early enough to see Taako stumble out of bed and refresh the grounds and filter again before adding even more water to the fantasy percolator before re-crashing onto the couch.

“Just how many more times are ya gonna  _do_  that?”

Taako gave him the finger.

Snocoun Ton, rooming with Magnus for reasons, emerged from her bunk and busied herself with some seemingly random things. A middle-sized pot, some tea leaves, herbs and spices, a healthy chunk of lemon. All of that went into the pot and she added a lot of water.

She set that on the hotplate to boil.

“That’s... not how you make tea,” said Merle, feeling weak at the knees.

The fantasy percolator finished its current round and Taako rose from his near-coma. He stirred up the hellaciously caffeinated mess and poured the resultant thick, black mess into a large mug with the legend,  _Yes, I do need this much coffee._

Next, while Sno was poking herbs in her boiling water, he approached the sugar bowl. He extracted two lumps with the delicate tongs and poured the rest of the cubes carefully into his pitch-black mud.

Sno’s concoction was so aromatic that it offended the wallpaper, and she poured hers into an equally large mug that read,  _Warning: undertow._

Neither Taako nor Sno looked at each other as both raised their mugs to their mouths, and drank.

The world closed in as Merle’s legs gave out from under him. He never felt the fall. All he knew was that his head stung and Magnus was leaning over him. “You okay, old man?”

“I dunno what’s got him fussed,” said Taako from the kitchen as he put on a new pot of coffee for the same cycle all over again. “I’m just havin’ my coffee an’ Sno’s having her fuckin’ tea.”

“...the horror...” Merle gasped. “...the horror...”


	11. Nonny Request #103

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Since it looks like you're taking fic requests, I would love to see more of your lovely, lovely Johavi content, especially for the LD universe. Domestic fluff, the proposal, anything that strikes your fancy.

Magnus was in a comfortable pocket of warm and, just for a moment, he had to wonder how he got it. Then his noggin caught up with his waking senses and he remembered. He had a room of his own. He had a bed. He had a new family.

...and speaking of...

Dad Johaan was singing. “...the world says hello... you twinkle above us, we twinkle below...” some notes happened thanks to the pots and pans in the kitchen.

Magnus stretched in his bed just because he could. He dislodged his plushie dog in the process. That tore it. He had to get up. Not that that was a horrible thing any more. There was no more yelling. No more being bad.

He padded out to the bathroom and enjoyed free access to facilities that were once rigidly controlled in the foster homes. Soap. Warm water. Kind people who talked about how he made mistakes and how they could all work to make the next time better. He had hit the big time.

Dad Johaan was mixing up stuff in the kitchen as he sang. Magnus joined into the song. “...sabba sibby sabba, nooby abba nabba, le le lo lo...”

Dad Johaan smiled, snagging out the helper stool with a foot and putting the batter bowl down before handing the whisk to Magnus. This was the best, keeping the goo moving while one of his dads worked on the next bit.

“What do you reckon, little man? What’s the best pancakes this morning?”

“Bacon pancakes, makin’ bacon pancakes,” Magnus sang.

“Take some bacon and ya put it in a pancake,” Dad Johaan joined in.

Papa Avi emerged, all rumpled and hanging on to his PJ bottoms, “Bacon pan-caaaaaaakes...” He found the drawstring at last and did it up. “I have to say that there is such a thing as too much bacon, short stuff. You gotta have two berry pancakes for every bacon pancake you eat, buddy.”

“You need vitamin C,” added Dad Johaan. “I didn’t go to a nutrition course to have you, only to feed you bacon twenty-four sev.”

Magnus said, “I can eat like twenty-one pancakes,” as if he really could. He knew what his dads were going to say, so he joined the chorus. “One at a time, little man.”

“I gotta shower, you okay, babe?”

“I think I can survive,” said Dad Johaan. The instant Papa Avi left his sight, he play-acted at growing weak. “Oh no. The love of my life is gone from my sight. My vitality... fading...”

A voice from the bathroom, “Oh give over!” Water started running and Papa Avi started rendering  _I Will Always Love You._  In this case, render, as in to tear asunder. Papa Avi had a terrible singing voice.

That didn’t stop Dad Johaan smiling goopily at it anyway. Magnus was allowed to help with the pancakes, but not the bacon. It spat and neither of his dads wanted him getting fat burns from that. That didn’t stop Magnus hovering like a vulture as the bacon fried inside puddles of syrup.

When Dad got stung, all he had to say was ‘ow’. Magnus had only wondered out loud, once, how much it could really hurt. He’d made the mistake of saying that it couldn’t hurt more than the cigarettes had and Dad had cried almost all day. When Papa came home, he’d heard from Dad and then there had been hugs all night.

Magnus decided not to mention what the old foster homes had done with him, any more. His dads were happier that way.

The bacon pancakes were slightly smaller than the berry ones, and Magnus wanted to complain about that. Bacon was his favourite food group, after all. He  _wanted_  to complain, but he wasn’t brave enough to do that yet.

Papa came out again, this time crisp in a fresh uniform and messing with his tie. He looked at the yield and said, “Those bacon pancakes are a little small. Better let him have an extra one when he’s nearly done, eh?”

“YAAAAYYY!” Magnus jumped at the news. Any morning with extra bacon was a good one.

Dad had a travel mug of coffee and a breakfast burrito for Dad, and the lunchbox they had all packed that night. It had some special envelopes inside, with messages from Dad and Magnus each.

“Go get the bad guys, Papa.”

“Try my best, squirt,” Papa ruffled his hair and picked Magnus up for the best bit of every morning. The squish.

Dad and Papa hugged, with Magnus squished in the middle and the world was going to be wonderful for a whole ‘nother day. The only thing that made it better was making sure all the cheeks were smooched, which was another morning ritual.

Breakfast and school and all the other stuff was okay, but this? This was the best.


	12. Reader Request #101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CR1810 on Chapter 22 od A Little Domesticity:  
> ...  
> Could you do a chapter where Taako and Lup meet Magnus properly? I'd absolutely adore that!

It was raining, and the assembled children of the apartment building were playing the sort of game that happens after a week of rain and being cooped up indoors with nothing to do and nowhere to go. If it had a name, it would be called _Bedlam._ It involved a lot of shrieking, a lot of laughter, and a _lot_ of thundering up and down the staircase in a wanton display of frenetic frustration.

There were rules, of course. Faster ones to the outside, slowest on the inside. Those running down fast must wait until  _all_ those running down fast  _were_ down before commencing the thunder back upstairs. Where the first waited for the last, anew.

Baby Agnes, three years old and tailed by one parent at a time, was playing her own version of the game, which involved jumping from stair to stair and across the intervening levels whilst anouncing "Jump!" for each bound. She had been up and down the staircase five times and both parents were hoping her energy would run out soon.

Johaan set up a camp chair on the level where he resided with his husband Avi Burnsides and his new adopted son Magnus. He had his violin nearby and a coiled way of sitting that spoke volumes about his readiness to leap up at the first sign of trouble and sing them Healing Word. He attempted to hide his nervousness by offering his rowdy young son a high five every time he passed. So far, he had sore hands  _and_ a growing ulcer.

...scrreeeeeEEEEEEEEEeeeeee(slap)eeeeaaamm... went the thundering horde. Two Elves, a surprisingly loud little Humanman, and three out of five Montlings who were using their hands to provide both thunder and the edge they needed to keep up with the kids who had legs. After a minute, baby Agnes was spotted on her way down.

"Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!"

"Jump, jump," sighed Angus McDonald, landlord and co-resident. He spotted a fellow parental and sighed, "Five PM, at the earliest. Momma, Poppa, my  _feeeet huuurrrt..."_

Johaan laughed. "It'll be legs and tails with the rest. They need to run, but there's nowhere to run in."

"Ah, city life," sighed Angus as Agnes jumped her way around to the next set of stairs.

The thundering horde went past again, this time a very familiar antagonist followed them to loom at Johaan. Crisp, photo-ready clothes. Impractical shoes that cost a weeks' wages or more. The bleached-blonde, "I want to talk to the manager," haircut. The general air of superior disapproval. "Are you supervising these brats?" Susan Hakniid demanded.

About the only people who actually liked Susan were her useless blob of a son and her cohort of fellow wine moms who believed that they could fix the whole world with vegan essential oils and astrological charts. Well, maybe also her husband, who seemed nominally involved in her life and parenting her son.

Johaan had hated her the instant she compared him to "a mommy" and asked him why he was wearing pants. "I'm just watching my kid," he said. "And -you know- being ready in case someone else gets hurt."

"Someone should be employing proper parenting methods with these tearaways," Susan opined. "Who's in charge, here?"

The elevator, an old cage thing from the dawn of time, whirred past them via the centre of the stairwell. "That would be me, Mrs Hakniid," said Angus McDonald, cradling baby Agnes in his arms. "By the way, have you repaired the damage your son did to the walls, yet? And has he gone to any of his court-mandated anger management classes yet?"

Susan's face looked like a smacked bottom, and she had no further opinions on the relative parenting skills in the apartments.

Meanwhile, the kids had gone quiet. Johaan crept down the stairs far enough to make certain they weren't in danger, and discovered that they were taking a break to catch their collective breaths.

* * *

 

"Hey, you're right," gasped Magnus. "Montlings  _are_ nice and comfy to lean on."

"You're welcome," said Monty Jr. "You mammals are nice and warm."

"You're welcome," chirped one of the twin Elves.

"Magnus Burnsides," said Magnus, vaguely offering a hand to anyone nearby. "2D."

"I'm Lulu, and this is my dumb baby brother, Koko."

Koko stage whispered, "She thinks forty-five minutes longer alive makes her superior. Humor her."

"Forty-five minutes and technically a day," corrected Lulu. "You might understand when you reach my age, brother-dear."

Koko made flapping puppet motions and mouthed,  _Blah, blah, blah, blah..._ as she spoke.

"My name's actually Sandehra," said another Montling. "But we kind'a all look like each other, so... we let everyone get away with calling us 'Montlings'."

"Fair enough," allowed Magnus. "My dads have got like,  _every_ kid movie ever made in their DVD collection. Wanna come an' watch some? We can make popcorn an' stuff

"Sure, sure," breezed Koko. "It'd make a change from watching  _Pretty Pony Princess Petunia_ for the umpty-billionth time."

Lulu hit him.

"Aw dang," Magnus teased. "That's one of my favourites." Then he watched in glee as Koko realised this was a goof.

"Yeah, you're gonna fit right in," announced Monty Jr.


	13. Reader Request #102

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LadyVin on Chapter 7 of Nestlings  
> Can we see the twins in the orphanage before they got adopted?

The tiny Elves struggled in the arms of the burly Guardsman. They were too small, thin, and weak to succeed in escaping his grapple roll. That didn't stop them from trying. They were identically filthy, identically dressed in clothes that were one good wash away from falling apart, and identically hostile. They bit. They scratched. They kicked. They howled and yowled like wild things.

The administrator stared at them and tried to imagine the home that would let them get into this state. Possibly an underaged Elf trying to live like a welfare queen, then discovering that the myth never matched the reality.

"Found 'em scrounging food in the middens outside Rockport," said the guard. "They haven't said anything intelligible since we caught 'em."

Just in case, the administrator activated his Amulet of Understanding. Nope. Those howls and screeches were just animal noises. They were wild little things. Society would be doing them a favour by taking them in and teaching them all the ways to behave properly.

* * *

 

The bathwater was tepid. Lulu had fought them every single time they took him[1] away from his brother. This time was no different. Koko, one tub over, was fighting them too. It made no difference. The people here had strong grips and seemed to know what their next move was.

Someone held them still with spells and someone else shore all the hair off their heads, tossing it aside like trash.

Someone forced them into thin, grey clothes that were almost worn to whispers, but were still better than the rags they'd been in.

One said, "Naughty children go in the Quiet Room," as they shoved Koko inside a small, dark chamber and locked the door. Lulu could only hear the screaming from that point, even when taken far, far away from it. Some of the screaming was his own.

Someone spoke Elven, though a very simple form of it. Like a grand-uncle talking to a little one just learning their words. _"Poor little one, so upset. Tell me your sad, sad tale, sweet baby."_

Lulu knew better words than that.  _"I'm not a baby. We want to go to our mom. You can't keep us. We have family."_

This caused some mild alarm amongst the grownups, and some overlapping murmuring. Someone said, in shaky Elven,  _"Where being family yours?"_

Lulu rolled his eyes and said, "We speak Common," and almost gagged at the sighs of relief. Lulu wanted to bite them and get thrown into the dark like Koko had been. "Our family's in Tre-Llew Ddion. We're tryin'a get back. We wanna go home."

Mumbling and murmuring and someone dragged him away from the mumbling crowd and slammed him into a bunk bed that stank like a tanner's bowl[2]. There was not a square inch on it that was dry. Lulu was told to stay in that bed until dawn or else. In eight hours, the grownups would tell these three-year-olds that everyone they knew was dead.

Their first day at the orphanage was off to a terrific start.

* * *

 

Breakfast was thin gruel. Lunch and dinner was watery stew. Good kids, the myth went, could get a dessert that was basically sugar and flour with some kind of flavour waved over the construction vat and named 'pudding'. Except little Elves could not have processed sugar on account of The Trouble. Therefore, all sweet things were forbidden them.

Koko clung to Lulu every chance he got. Sometimes with a grip that hurt the both of them. He could calm down more than a little if he filled his nose with Lulu's scent instead of the perpetual ammonia aroma that seemed to pervade even the eternally cold floors of this place.

The grownups here were uncaring, and horrible in their own way, but at least they were trying to look after umpty-dozen homeless kids. The older kids? The bigger kids? They were worse. They  _knew_ what life was like in this place and then made the decision to make it worse for everyone smaller and weaker than them.

He kept getting into trouble.

Which kept getting him into the Quiet Room. It stank of mould and blood and (of course) piss. Everything here stank of piss. The baths, the beds, the sheets. Even the desert of a yard smelled of piss. The food stank of it, too. But there was a worse humiliation:

Assessment.

They took him away from Lulu and striped him bare and made him stand on a cold table and moved him around like a puppet and shore his head bald and poked and prodded and asked questions he never knew the right answers to and put him on things and took him off again and pressed him with icy cold instruments and made faces that made him want to cry.

Just when he thought they'd let him hold Lulu again, just when he had his twin in sight... they'd take Lulu away and make him scream until they threw him back in the Quiet Room again.

It took him less than a month to get The Cough.

It started light. A persistent tickle in the back of his throat that no water could soothe away. It soon graduated into a bark, with a rattling wheeze in his lungs. Then it became a bubbling roar that stole his breath and made him cough up enormous hunks of grey-green slime.

Time in the sun room made it ease off, but there was never enough sun, and he was always messing up and in the Quiet Room again. Somehow, these people managed to figure out that Lulu made a worse ruckus to try and keep Koko out of there. So they said that if Lulu didn't behave, Koko would get the room anyway.

The first winter there almost killed him.

He remembered stringing necklaces together for the fundraiser, something even some of the babies could do, in the eternal chill of the crafting room. He remembered sneezing so hard that he almost cracked his dome piece open on the hard stone table. Then The Cough took him over and he could barely get enough air for the next spate of coughs and the world went even greyer and then it went black...

The next thing he knew, he was in the hospital wing with a Fantasy Nebuliser delivering sour medicine straight to his lungs. Propped up on damp, ammonia-scented pillows and covered over in quilts and blankets so heavy that every breath was a battle. They only let Lulu stay with him because he was calmer with his twin there.

_Aunty had said they had been born holding hands. Baby Lulu had cried and cried and kicked and fussed until Baby Koko was born, and their tiny hands were re-united. It took a long time for that to happen, which might be why Koko was always victim to the cold, and prone to catching every disease around..._

He spent all winter in that Hospital Wing. Rallying when Lulu was near and fading when he wasn't.

He was better in the spring sunshine. He thrived in the summer's heat - even enough to be allowed outside for running around and shrieking with the others, but The Cough was always there. Lurking. Waiting to strike at an inopportune moment.

Midsummer came, and in lieu of a birthday cupcake, the twins were rationed a square inch of honeycomb. Lulu got it on Midsummer day and Koko got his the day after. They both chewed the remaining wax for the rest of the day, until an indomitable nurse pried their jaws apart and forced it from their mouths at the end of the day.

* * *

 

Lulu didn't want to watch Koko fading away, but he still faded anyway. Lulu started treasuring every touch. Every moment with him. Every word that didn't come with The Cough chasing the air out of his lungs. Lulu even started behaving, doing his best, just so Koko would have more time out of the Quiet Room.

This place was killing him. They both knew it. Lulu never wanted to say it, hear it, or even think it, but they both knew.

Any chill breeze could knock the air right out of him.

The slightest puff of dust or pollen could make him keel right over and cough and cough and  _cough_ until he nearly turned blue and his eyes rolled back and his limbs trembled and...

And they'd take him away. Carry him off. Take him out of the sun and never understanding that he needed to be warm. Please.  _Please._ He's always cold, you have to understand, Lulu got all the warmth and Lulu could give him some and help him get better and...

He barely survived the second winter in that place.

Lulu could only rest with one ear on Koko's chest. Listening for the reassuring lub-dub between the ominous rattles of the next breath in. Underneath the steady rattle and hiss of the Fantasy Nebuliser as it made clouds of medicated mist that helped Koko breathe just that tiny bit easier.

They didn't want Lulu resting with Koko in the same bed. Hygiene, they said. Rules, they said. They could not, would not understand that Koko could only rest properly with Lulu there, holding his hand and giving him warmth.

"Next winter," he rasped as Lulu helped him to the Sun Room, where he could watch infant after infant get adopted by couple after couple while they got left behind. "Next winter, I'm going to die."

Lulu couldn't say,  _Horseshit._ Not with the grownups monitoring their every word. Not with the threat of the Quiet Room hanging over their heads. The only bright side was that Koko was too sick to be thrown in there any more, so now they had to chuck Lulu in there instead. Lulu said, "Dung," because that was allowed. "Dung twice. Dung times infinity. We're gonna get out. We're gonna make it."

"Next winter," he repeated, breath gurgling. "Next winter for sure."

Lulu didn't want to hear it. Didn't want it said. Didn't want it thought. The result was the word 'no' being the only word to come out. Softly at first, but with increasing volume and vigour, as if saying it often enough, loudly enough, and with enough determination could make his will reality.

"Sorry, Lulu," Koko whispered. He fell to coughing again, and the duty nurse scooped him up and sat him in the window seat in the sunshine, and forced the Fantasy Nebuliser onto him.

Lulu raged and ranted and screamed, "NO!" at the universe until they dragged him away and into the mouldy dark of the Quiet Room, where spores and ammonia both attempted to ruin Lulu's lungs as well. If Koko was going, Lulu was going to go with him. Lulu wouldn't eat, wouldn't rest, wouldn't do a single thing that they didn't force on him, would bait them and  _make_ them throw him in the Quiet Room again and again and again until the rot invaded Lulu's lungs as well.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't  _fair!_ Koko was Lulu's whole heart, the reason Lulu kept going even when it felt like the world was going to collapse in on them both. Even when everything else was turning rotten, Koko was  _there._

Lulu even raged at the Raven Queen herself.  _He's mine, he's mine. You can't take him, you can't. I need him. He's mine..._ He even stuck his head into the mouldiest, mildewiest, most pee-stinking corner and sucked in the spores. It didn't work. No cough came.

Lulu sat there anyway, breathing in befouled air and sobbing so hard his whole body shook.

Hours later, when Lulu's throat was too raw to make a sound and his soul wrung dry of tears, some orderlies dragged him back to his brother, where an Orc and a Dragonborn were signing papers...  _and Koko was smiling in a weird, weird way._

He said, in  _Us, "Looks like we get outta here before I die."_

Lulu ran over and hugged him tight.  _"That's what I love about you, Koko. Your unending optimism."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Headcannon-compliant gender identity. She realises later who she really is.  
> [2] Tanners in ancient Rome [and likely other places] used to have a huge bowl/vat where (usually) male passers-by were invited to pee. Urine was very useful to the tanning process and this was one of the more... direct methods of collecting it. [insert "the more you know" gif]


	14. Reader Request #103

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DeathsKitten on Chapter 11:  
> Awww this is so sweet!   
> I'd love to see more of this tiny Magnus too!  
> Magnus is a pretty rough and tumble kid, and he's always jumping in to defend others.   
> How did his boisterous nature affect his relationships with the twins, when they first met? I know Taako gets anxious easily, and sometimes has panic attacks, did Magnus ever set that off with his excitement, or does his call to protect people actually have him taking care of Taako and calming him when he gets worked up?

  
Miller's Academy of Learning offered something for everyone. They certainly had accomodations for every stage of learnings. Which was a good thing because the twins were pretty smart and quick on the uptake whilst others... well...

Magnus Burnsides had won Most Improved at colouring in.

Koko and Lulu were playing a game with some of their spells. Koko had summoned a pale blue hand made of light and warped air that was throwing stones and random debris up in the air, whilst Lulu was shooting them down with fire bolts.

Magnus crept up on them, concealed in the shrubbery. He loved playing with the twins, for all that they were a few years older than he was. This was his chance to get some kind of edge on them. They were always smarter and faster and more cunning, but he could be sneakier. Closer... and closer...

Koko was concentrating on something more complicated than a cantrip. Messing around with a couple of spell ingredients and focussing on the words.

Magnus jumped up behind him, shouting, "MAGNUS!" as he did so.

He didn't know. He couldn't tell from knowing the twins, that that was the worst thing to do. He didn't know about the foster homes. He didn't know about some of the horrible things that had been done to the twins whilst they were in there. How could he? They never spoke about it.

Therefore what happened next was a complete surprise. Koko whirled in place, braids tightening as his hair frizzed right up into tight, tight curls. His pupils reduced to paper-thin slits. Half a word spilled out of his mouth in a scream, and the following gasp stopped up in his throat in a horrible strangling noise. Koko trembled from toe to tip, tears gathering in his eyes. He could not breathe in. All that happened was another squawk as he tried to breathe in through a throat already closed by panic.

Lulu was already at his side, calling his name and asking him a question that didn't make sense. "Tell me five things you see, Koko. Five things..." It didn't seem to be working.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," said Magnus. "I was tryin'a have some fun, I didn't mean it."

Squawk, squawk, squawk. Tears fell from the amber eye, then the green one. Trembling hands fluttered near his head. Whatever Koko was seeing, it wasn't Magnus.

Magnus almost felt the looming shadow of Elrestle Kalen, about to beat him up. Or one of his old foster dads, about to teach him a lesson. They weren't real. They weren't here. The difference was that Koko couldn't tell the difference, right now. "What do I do?"

Lulu made him stand nearby. "Stay here. I'm'a get his meds from the nurse's office." Lulu took off at her top run.

This was the cue for the school Blobs to show themselves and attempt to assert dominance.

Greg -Magnus wasn't allowed to say the middle word- Grimaldis and the four Jerries. Jerry Cooper, Jerie Cartwright, Gerry Fuller, and "Little" Gerry Kulner. Though "Little" Gerry was the shortest of the crew, he still had a foot and a half over Koko and was easily four times his weight.

Magnus was younger, scrawnier, and had less muscle mass than any of them. That didn't stop him. He wasn't going to let Greg Grimaldis and the Jerries hurt Koko. He put himself between Koko and the Blobs. "Don't try anything," he said. "A teacher is coming."

"I don't see no teachers," said Grimaldis.

"Yeah, there ain't no teachers here," said "Little" Gerry.

"We ain't doing nothing to you," said Jerie.

"Yeah we ain't doing nothing," echoed "Little" Gerry.

"Good," said Magnus. "Let's keep it that way."

Gerry said, "Aw, you shouldn'a said that."

"Little" Gerry provided an agreeing echo for the gang.

"Can't let him talk like that to us," said Jerry.

"Gotta teach 'im a lesson," said Jerie.

Magnus kept a defensive posture. These mooks weren't nearly as scary as any of his old foster dads. He could do this.

* * *

 

Johaan answererd the phone. "Burnsides residence. 'Sup?"

"Mr Burnsides, this is Ms Mellit from Miller Academy, there's been an incident involving your son..."

On one hand - oh shit. On the other... wow, that took him a while.

The next thing he knew, he was on the stone to Avi and watching the school cleric run a few Healing Words over his injured little boy. That kid had had his ass kicked three ways to Sunday.

"Is he okay?" asked Avi.

"Hey, little man, you okay?" Johaan held the stone close so Avi could hear their boy.

"It hurts," said Magnus, "but I kept 'em off'a Koko, so I'm taking that win."

The hell? Sno, somewhere in the background, started demanding to know what the hell had happened to Koko.

"Panic attack," said the school Cleric. "He's had his medication, his guardian's been called and he's in the soft room with his sister." It was not, technically, the right thing to say, because Snocoun Ton was only technically the twins' sister... but she was also a trusted guardian and an officer involved in their case, so the rules were allowed to be bent.

There was going to be a fiasco. Johaan could feel it. La'ming Ton would be rushing in from work, in one uniform or the other, Avi would be rushing in to see what was the matter with their boy... and Snocoun Ton would be rushing in to deliver a swift serving of justice towards whoever had started this malarky. The schoolyard rumour mill would be going berserk before all parties had arrived on the scene.

La'ming was dressed in her shitty Garfield costume, though the hood was down and some of the snaps unfastened. "I'mhereformybabieswherearethey, aretheyokay?"

The chaos was just beginning.

* * *

 

Did you hear? The police came to the school!

They were wearing all their riot gear (translated, they were still in their flak vests because they'd not changed from leaving a hostile situation).

There were twenty of them (translated: there were two of them)!

They came for Greg Grimaldis and all the Jerries, and they're going to jail for sure (translated: Officer Ton gave them a stern lecture that was enough to frighten them onto the path of righteousness.)

The Blobs were so scared, there was pee  _everywhere!_ (translated: some seats were wet when Officer Ton mentioned that Grimaldis and the Jerries were old enough to be tried and sentenced as adults)

Someone must have  _died!_ (translated: nobody had died. It wasn't even a close thing)

The Blobs turned that Burnsides kid into hamburger... he went to hospital and had to get his  _face_ sewn back on. (translated: With a competent Cleric, most of the injuries were healed and the rest got better after a long rest)

The Blobs have been thrown out of the school for the rest of their  _lives!_ (translated: They have been punished by a two-week suspension in which their collective parentals are expected to give them some solid lessons about the justice system.

You know Koko? One of the twins? He's really sick 'cause of something the Blobs did. He had to go into hospital and have a machine help him even _breathe._ (translated: Koko had some lung trouble until the meds kicked in and he calmed enough down for his throat to open up)

Those Blobs are in super trouble, now. (true)

The rumours could only get worse during the weekend, and would take the better part of a year to definitively deny. 


	15. Nonny Request #104

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Barry Bluejeans in Little Domesticity 'Verse: Adult or kid? This question has been in my mind ever since I started reading it. (And yes, you may answer this at AO3 if you like)

Every intelligent being has milestones of development. Humans have the Terrible Twos, when babies learn that the word ‘no’ has power that they can weild. Elves... have the Turbulent Twenties, when a young Elf learns about the different paces that others, and how very, very long Elven lives are by comparison.

It’s an upsetting time for many young Elves. No less so for Lulu and Koko, who left the standard avenues of education for exclusively Elven ones at the tender age of twenty-five.

Magnus, their best friend and partner in crime, was going to college and spending his free moments talking about some girl named Julia. Hee was making plans for the rest of his life.

...it was depressing as hell for Koko to realise that he had like eighty years left if he was lucky. He was slowly gravitating away from the Scene Look and towards a lot of black and a lot of smoky-eye makeup when he and his twin were selected for special tutoring.

Not only because they were Elves, and had to take their education at a slower pace, but also because they tested high and showed signs of true genius. Their mom was appropriately proud, but... Koko approached the special classes with morbid hostility.

Especially when it turned out that they were going to be taught by a Humanman.

Professor Hallwinter was a stout man, not fat, but definitely stout. He had some muscle under his seemingly permanent blue jeans. He was fresh-faced for a Human, which meant that he was younger than the twins. Except... developmentally... he was miles ahead of them. Humanmen were grown-ass adults at twenty. Elves... were closer to children than adults.

He looked over to Lulu as Hallwinter stammered his way nervously through a formal Elven greeting and an introductory speech about the expected curriculum.

He knew that dreamy look.

He’d had it once before, whenever he looked at...  _him._

Koko fought to keep him mind on the lessons, the how and why of experimental spell forms. It was difficult with Lulu at the neighbouring desk focussing exclusively on whatever she found attractive about the dude.

He made it all the way to first break, then pulled his sister aside and said, “You know it can’t work, right?”

“What?” she demanded.

“You and Barry Bluejeans. One - he’s your  _teacher._  You really shouldn’t be making sweet with a teacher... Two - he’s a twenty-year-old  _Humanman._  By the time you’re an adult, he’ll be  _dying of old age...”_

Lulu punched him. “Just because  _you_  had a bad time doesn’t mean you have to share it with everyone else, goofus. Gods! Lemme have a  _daydream.”_

Koko boggled. “How? You know Humanmen never last. Shit, I’ve been counting the days until that asshole fucking  _dies_  since age sixteen.”

Now she shoved him, tears in the corners of her eyes. “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO  _RUIN_  THINGS?”

“I’m not tryin’a ruin nothin’. I’m tryin’a save you from breaking your heart...” He could feel the weight of it crushing his own. He could see his sister mourning a love that could never happen. He could see Magnus’ eventual grave. He knew... he just  _knew..._  he’d live to see the ends of everyone he loved. Avi and Johaan and Magnus and Angus and Agatha and even baby Agnes, and all the Montlings and old Merle from the Bodega and...

Tears were ruining his eyeliner. Everything hurt. The whole world hurt. “It’s not fair,” he complained. “This whole thing isn’t fair. Why do some people only got eighty... or less... and Elves live to like eight hundred...  _Why?”_

The hurt he had never wanted to pass along reached Lulu’s mismatched eyes, too. “Oh, Koko...”

Then Barold ruined it even more by asking, “Hey, are you kids okay?”

Kids. They were just kids. Kids who would live to see their whole world die.

It wasn’t fair.

Something had to be done.

Between one week’s advanced class in magic theory and the next, Koko went budget Goth. He stopped buying the bright, holographic, glittery stuff and went for cheap and black. When he re-coloured his hair, he coloured it a simple black. A common colour from the bargain bins. He bought discount eyeliner and eyeshadow. Common black. One by one, the less than robust Scene clothes vanished from his wardrobe.

Every other spare scrap of money he had went into his studies. Research into obscure and ancient magics. Throwing himself into finding out what had happened to give Elves such a huge lifespan when so many others just... missed out.

He found an answer in legend. After four years of solid effort. Lulu was still crushing hard on a teacher she would inevitably outlive. Barold was headed inevitably towards the age where he would find someone to marry and then have babies with.

Magnus had already married Julia - a woman large enough and muscular enough to bench press him without breaking a sweat - and  _they_  were talking about raising their own babies.

Even Baby Agnes was growing up. Flirting at people and getting into fashion and... No. It wasn’t allowed to happen.

Koko put it all together. The legend, the spell... all he needed was the right thing to sacrifice. Something that would last forever. Something that would feed itself. Something he wouldn’t need.

Well. He knew one thing that he would never need to use again. One traitor emotion that had hurt him too hard and he’d sworn off ever using again.

He could sacrifice his heart so that his sister’s would never be broken. It felt... almost poetic. Noble. Perfect.

Now all he had to do was gather the spell ingredients...


	16. Reader Request #104

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Can we see Sno Highchurch meeting THB?

The Lonely Hearts Cantina...

“Say, are there any  _teens_  here?” said Merle.

“You really aught’a not say that,” said Nono. “You’re giving off like a million creepy vibes.”

The Elf in the corner transmuted his table into meat. “DAMNIT!”

“Whoah,” said Magnus. “We should sign that wizard  _up!_  He just made the entire table be meat!” Aiming to at least hack off a slice and eat it, he rushed in to the corner... and recognised the Elf. “Taako? Oh my gods, it’s Taako... I loved your show, what happened?”

“...got cancelled...” he said. “D’ruther not talk about it.”

“Cancelled? But you were like the best! I still remember when you came to Ravensroost. You did this thing with the local cave slugs? Man, I never tasted anything so good...”

Taako seemed supremely disinterested. “Yeah, life goes in weird directions...”

“Okay, so... this job over here in Kreg’s List? It needs a wizard, a cleric, and a fighter, and... You could be our wizard.”

“What about the blue bean pole over there?”

“She’s a druid,” said Magnus. “Come on. It could be fun. It’s at least profitable. Last job you’ll ever need.”

The opposing party challenged them. “We got all the ones we need. How good are youse guys? I bet none of you ain’t shit.”

Taako stood up. “Oh, it’s  _on.”_

* * *

 

“We only need the three,” Gundren complained. “Who’s the Druid?”

“She’s with me,” said Merle. “You want me, you get her.”

“Yeah, we’re kind of a BOGO deal,” added Nono.

“How  _old_  are you?”

Nono went for the default lie of every underaged Elf pretending to be an adult... I’m... I’m uh... I’m a hundred and.... one.”

Taako knew the lie well. He had used that exact lie in his own checkered past. What she needed was a grown-ass Elf to back her up. “It’s true,” he lied. “She’s a hundred and one.”

Nono opened her mouth to challenge him, then wisely shut it again. She would thank him later.

* * *

 

“...turns out Steven is a Rogue,” joked Magnus.

“I’ve got it,” sighed Nono, and busted out her thieves tools. She had the lock open in seconds.

“I thought you were a druid,” said Taako.

“I multiclassed.”


	17. Reader Request #105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> That last one was so I could really ask for Ango and Sno Highchurch being kids on the moon.

The Stone in her hands said, “Hello, sirs. Hello ma’am.”

Aw shit. It was the baby nerd from the train. Wait. If he was here, what had happened to her  _mother?_  Noth that she actually cared that much, but... There had been a few moments, in-between fighting like Orcs and Elves, when Minmin actually showed that  _she_  cared enough about Nono to make sure certain things happened.

Like... not telling anyone that Minmin was Nono’s mother. Or that they were both underage.

Nono’s concerns had answers in less than a handful of seconds, because a door opened for the big reveal. The baby nerd was there, of course, in his fancy lad clothes, and behind him was Minmin. She was using the name La’ming as part of her ruse, the same way Nono was trying on Salat’krou for size. It was too complicated... and too late to change it now.

On one hand, she was relieved that her mother was still alive. On the other hand, those were fading bruises on her blue face, almost blending in there, but still perceptible. Thirdly, though, she was  _here._  Nono didn’t know whether to be happy, upset, or furious.

From the looks of things, Minmin didn’t know whether to be happy, terrified, or furious, either.

The air started to crackle with the energy between them as they decided on a common emotion... and it wasn’t ‘happy’.

* * *

 

It had taken some time for Angus to become friends with Salat’krou, the mysterious Druid/Rogue accompanying the Reclaimers on most, if not all, of their missions. She was vulnerable to the Thrall of the Relics, but also smart enough to stay well away when it came time to scoop them up for retrieval.

There was something... off about her. Something all the Elves and half-Elves in the Bureau knew and carefully did not talk about. A conspiracy that Team Sweet Flips was somehow also in on. Angus tried training with them to see if he could work it out, or at least glean something involving a clue from their collective behaviour.

What he got was... some very good training.

There was always an Elf or a half-Elf in the stands. Watching. Supervising. Like Madam Director or Taako would watch him when it was his turn for the rough and tumble. Almost like...

...Oh...

Like a wary guardian making sure their kid didn’t get hurt.

Like La’ming was always there, always lurking out of immediate view, watching and flinching  _like a parent forbidden access to their child... but watching from afar..._

But. Wait. Both La’ming and Salat’krou claimed to be one hundred and one years of age. Angus knew it was a lie in the case of La’ming, because he’d found her out on the train. The paperwork had a few subtle errors that most people would miss...

_She and Sal could almost be sisters..._

But La’ming was a Sea Elf and Sal was a Beach Elf. You only got a Beach Elf if a Sun Elf and a Sea Elf...

The clues slotted into place inside Angus’ dome piece with a click that should have been heard across the entire moon. Not sisters. Mother and daughter.

There had to be some hinky stuff happening - what, sixteen, seventeen years ago? Because La’ming would have been seventy-one when “Salat’krou” was born.

Angus decided that, for the sake of everyone present, plausible deniability had to be the order of the day. He could keep a secret just as well as anyone else on this base. Heck, he was certain Madam Director knew and didn’t say because otherwise those kids would be out in the gutter or worse.

He decided on being friendlier. Trying to give “Sal” a few more chances to act her age. Therefore, he invited her to show him some moves on the ‘agility obstacle course’ that the Bureau had set up. What it really was was a play gym and everyone knew it, but nobody said.

He waited until she was laughing with him and having fun before whispering, “So what’s your real name?”

“You know my name,” she evaded. “Salat’krou. Everyone knows.”

“No, I mean, your  _real_  name. The one that isn’t fake?”

She glared at him. They were both hanging upside-down by their knees and, for an instant, the beanpole of an Elf looked like she was considering murder. “Of course you worked it out. World’s greatest detective.”

“To your credit, it was everyone else that eventually gave it away.”

She righted herself, and said, “You going to do anything about it? Make it official? Tell the director?”

Angus flipped up to the vertical as well. “Miss? I haven’t even told  _Davenport.”_  Which was next to pointless since Davenport didn’t say much past his own name. “And I promise I won’t, either.”

There was a long moment in which Angus felt like he was being weighed in thee balance and calculated as to his worth by the ounce. Or, perhaps, the karat. She took a deep breath and whispered. “Nono.” A sigh. Another deep breath. “Nono... Ton.”

It was the best-kept secret on the moon. One never spoken, even by those who were in on it. Angus was proud to be a member of the conspiracy.


	18. Nonny Request #105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see Merle being cool about Ming's job vs some random incel?

It was so late it was early. Merle didn’t mind so much. Late shift was always the interesting shift. He could sleep in the early morning when one of his employees took over. Some time in the afternoon, he’d ferry some homegrown pipeweeds to the dispensary down the road.

For now, though, he was watching customers in the liminal hours going about their business. Like La’ming Ton, fresh from a late-night shoot and looking rumpled from some hard effort as she traipsed through the aisles, filling in orders on a list written by her kids.

The one Merle was keeping his eye on was “Young”  _Jason_  Hakniid. A kid who should have got his act together a decade ago, and seemed to be living in an eternal puberty where he got all the breaks and none of the consequences. According to his mother, Susan, he was going to be an Internet star just as soon as someone gave him a break.

Merle figured he was more likely to gain fame as yet another ratbag who caused immense devastation to an entire group of people or tried to blow up a building, rather than finding stardom. For the moment, he was more concerned about the twenty-something Humanman brat helping himself to something he was never going to pay for.

La’ming didn’t notice, but  _Jason_  was creeping on her. So Merle got in his way. “Help you with something, there, son?”

Typical of his family,  _Jason_  decided to stir trouble. “You better watch that [SLUR], m’man. Dirty [CURSE] like that’ll rob you dry.”

“Seems pretty clean to me,” said Merle. “What makes her dirty to you?”

 _Jason_  laughed. “Are you kidding me? I browse through hours of porn starring her ass. She’s a filthy [OH BOY].”

“If your looking at her ass made her dirty, maybe you shouldn’t look at her ass,” said Merle. He held out a hand, “And I’ll be having those three phones you put in your pockets or I’m calling the cops.”

The phones came out and so did some interesting words to turn the air blue.

“You’re on tape, bucko,” said Merle, waddling back to the counter. “Find everything?”

“Finally,” said La’ming. “I never knew I was adopting gourmets when I took them in...” She ferried stuff up to the counter, adding a few things she’d added to her pockets, then checked all her pockets and her bag to be certain. “Yeah, that’s it.”

In the shelves,  _Jason_  was carrying on a mumbled diatribe about dirty women and whether or not they should be trusted with children.

“He has neither,” Merle whispered. “Ignore him.”

“Already done,” said La’ming. “Sometimes, I wish I could ignore the whole world when they find me out...”

“...mumblemumble shouldn’t act like a [WHOOPS] on the daily mumblemuttermumble...”

“You have a good night,” said Merle.

“Give my love to Mavis and Mookie.”

“..muttermutter give your love to everyone with two dollars, ya [CRIKEY] grumblegrowl...”

Possibly prompted by this, La’ming added a kiss to Merle’s growing bald spot before leaving for the remains of the evening.

 _Jason_  wasn’t far behind. “Frigid [GODS],” he rumbled.

“Empty your pockets and learn to tell the difference between sex workers, there, Junior. LIke, if you got the money, a [GODS] will hand over the honey.”

 _Jason_  went on a half-hour diatribe that boiled down to his bemoaning the fact that he never got near a lady’s anatomy, and all the pretty ones thought they were too good for any decent fellow.

“Show me a decent fellow,” said Merle. “You? You’re the next best thing to pond scum.”

Insert half an hour for the how-dare-you rant.

“I apologise to pond scum,” said Merle, ringing up the purchases. “You got no right to complain, pal. You’re paying her rent, you’re paying for her clothes, and you’re filling up her retirement fund. If she wasn’t doing what she’s doing, you’d have to find something  _else_  to do with your hands.”

Half-hour opinion about how he should ‘get some’ if he’s paying for everything, then.

“Pal. She doesn’t owe you jack. You choose to pay for what she makes. That’s the product. That’s your fair exchange. Anything else she does is her business.”

Of course, he had another opinion in regards as to women going for assholes rather than decent folk.

“Son,” said Merle, “if that were true, you wouldn’t  _need_  the porn.”

“I’m never shopping here again!”

Merle wished him a good evening. Then muttered, “I wish you wouldn’t...”


	19. Nonny Request #106

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> It's been so long since Kravitz was alive. dead was simple, now he's got his elf husband and half elf son Ango. In a hilarious panic, a dawning moment of " I'm married.. and have a son" he reads some book about how to care for your elves. Hilarity begins here. ( if you don't mind that is, thank you!)

If there was anything Kravitz was certain of, it was two things. He loved Taako with a power beyond his comprehension... and he didn’t want to become his own father. Standing over the sleeping forms of his husband and adopted son just... cemented that into his soul.

He just had very few ideas how to do that. As in, at all. 

Kravitz had been dead for at least two thousand years, and he’d come from a fairly xenophobic culture to begin with. He only had the shakiest knowledge concerning Elves. For two thousand years, he’d only ever met individuals with a life expectancy of only a few more minutes past their introductions.

He hadn’t had to worry about caring for anyone for so long, that he had almost forgotten how to do it at all. Loving Taako was easy. That Elf had made Kravitz do more than feel alive. Taako could talk about what made him happy.

Angus, sweet little half-Elf still scared of speaking his mind... was not that comfortable with making his wants known.

Kravitz decided that he was willing to do anything to help his little family, so he went looking for something to give him more than a little bit of a clue. Which was what had him in one of the greater libraries still existent in Faerun, following the Hunger War.

He found a book, and judged it by the cover, which had  _How to Care for Elves_  on there in large, friendly letters. He purchased a copy and immediately portalled back to the home he shared with husband and child and got to studying.

_Elves have good reason to be paranoid. Large portions of their history include persecution from other races. Do not allow your Elf to be startled by Humans, Orcs, Dragonborn, Dwarves or Gnomes._

Okay. That explained Taako’s rule of Call First. Kravitz skipped ahead to the cookery section,  _Popular Elven Comforts._  There were some involved recipes in there, true, but the book said Elves had the time to complicate literally everything they did.

_The things I do for love..._

* * *

 

Taako stretched and yawned and smooched his little boy on the forehead. Something delicious was cooking and Taako let his nose lead him to...

Kravitz, with a plethora of scientific-looking equipment, measuring herbs against carob seeds.

It was so adorable that Taako had to watch him for a while. Finally, when Krav stopped to stretch his back and wipe his brow, he said, “What’cha doin’ there, handsome?”

“Um. Showing you I care?” He failed at hiding a thick book under a tea towel. “You already have a secure cote or five and all the safety you could eat, so...” He gestured at some of the completed dishes. “I thought I’d try for some proper Elven nutrition.”

Taako couldn’t not kiss him. Cooking, love, and a certain amount of exertion had made his man nice and warm. His kisses were always sweet. “Babe,” he said, “You know I love you...”

“But...” Kravitz prompted.

“What fucking book were you even  _reading?”_  Taako had to giggle. “Half of this shit is festival food, and the other half are jokes we played on the Humanmen, back in the day.” He found the book. “Oh boy.” Flip, flip, flip...  _“Oh_  boy. Oh  _boy._  Oh boy howdy...”

“Everything he knew was wrong?”

“Ninety percent,” said Taako. “That, and I’m literally from a different planet. Most of this don’t even fuckin’ count.”

Angus stumbled into the kitchen, following his nose. “Wow, sir. This is an amazing spread.”

“Everything sweet has been sweetened with honey or maple syrup,” said Kravitz. “I at least knew better than to use sugar.”

Taako still flipped through the pages. “You got a head start on this dude, Bone Daddy.”

Angus had selected something from the ‘joke’ section of the menu. He had half his little mouth full and was busily chewing. “I like this one, sir,” he managed.

“I know five ways to make it much quicker,” said Taako. “I’ll teach you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Dove.”

“For the rest of today, though... I gotta show this book to Lup and Barold.” Of course he had to. They hadn’t had a decent Family Roast sesh in  _years._


	20. Reader Request #105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ContentWithDiscontent on Chapter 25 of A Little Domesticity
> 
>  
> 
> ...I'd imagine Magnus would be very good at being Loud and providing a pretty good Distraction while the terror twins are unnoticed and Suspiciously Silent sneaking away to do something they've not been told not to do outright but they Know they should probably not do  
>  Maybe something involving forbidden processed sugars

Is there anything more appealing than forbidden fruit? Lulu and Koko, aged eleven, couldn't find it. They _had_ found a large jar of brightly-coloured lollipops hidden away in a high cupboard, behind some bags of rice and rolled oats. Every single one of them was stamped on its wrapper with an image of an infant Humanman and a young Elf. Both with a red bar through their cartoon faces. The age limit for Humanmen was zero to three. The age limit for Elves was zero to one hundred.

For Lulu and Koko, this was yet another species-specific injustice.

Everyone else got to taste sugar before their majority. Elves... did not. Everyone said young Elves shouldn't have processed sugar, and numerous products bore that Elven symbol and a multitude of vendors refused to sell those things to the twins.

It simply wasn't fair.

Koko explained it logically and rationally to Mags, who also wanted one of the lollipops in Mukaara's hidden stash. Lulu was the one who came up with The Plan.

"We need twenty minutes, sugar," said Lulu. "That'll give us enough time to get in, get the goods, and get out without being detected."

"Then we can all enjoy a little treat," cooed Koko.

Magnus had his doubts. "I heard sugar was super-dangerous for underaged Elves."

"Pfft," dismissed Lulu. "They only say that 'cause of how they don't want us getting cavities before we're fully grown."

"You'd think we didn't get four sets of teeth[1]," added Koko.

"All you need to worry about is how to keep Mukaara occupied for twenty minutes," said Lulu. "We'll do the rest."

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes and a very extended mashup of _Henry the Eighth, Be Kind to Your Web-footed Friends, Baby Shark,_ and _The Song that Never Ends_ (replete with improvised musical accompaniment) later...

They gleamed like gems. Red. Blue. Orange. None of those colours were ever found in nature.

"You did the hard part," said Lulu. "You get first pick. Koko held me so I could reach, so he gets next."

Mags picked the orange one. Koko took the red. Lulu got the blue.

"You sure you guys are going to be okay?" asked Magnus.

"It's one lollipop, dingus. What hurt could it have?"

Those were Koko's last rational words for twenty-four hours. Crinkle, went the cellophane as it flexed under their fingers. Rip, went the little tearaway strip that made unwrapping a breeze. Lick, went three tongues against three forbidden treats. Frizz, went two sets of golden hair as rationality died in the twins' mismatched eyes.

"So where have you two--" said Mukaara as he found the three of them. "Oh no... Oh. No."

There was an explosion of magic, and things only got worse from there.

* * *

 

 

It took a SWAT team, four Kettle teams, three tranquilliser darts each, and a fifteenth-level Hold Person spell to stop the twins from their rampage. A mixture of processed sugar and polyputthekettleon-level food additives had the two junior Elves completely out of their fluffy little gourds. They were, in fact, still tied up in Tanglenets when La'ming Ton, semi-legal guardian, entered the Scene. Magnus Burnsides, seven-year-old criminal, was weeping from the relative safety of an emergency blanket. Mukaara was trying to explain things to the constabulary. Several SWAT team members were patching up their wounds.

Some of them were bites.

Avi Burnsides, entering the Scene behind La'ming, said, "What. _Happened?"_

"I didn't mean it," said Magnus. Kid shorthand for, _I didn't mean for this to happen the way it happened._

La'ming checked on her beautiful babies. They were foaming strange colours at the mouth. Koko had pinkish foam at the corners of his mouth. Lulu's was blue-ish. Their pupils were painfully wide. Their breaths painfully short. They could both still move their heads, and twitched them about towards every noise. Their golden hair was in a tight 'fro, clouding around their heads like an obscene parody of a halo.

"Mrrrah," said Lulu. "Mrrh?"

Koko kind of gurgled.

"Oh, my babies," she sighed. She knew exactly what had happened. The oddly-coloured foam. Those symptoms. "Magnus Burnsides, did you help Lulu and Koko get hold of _sugar_ sweets?"

"I only ran distraction," he said. "They said it was okay. They said that one wouldn't hurt. They said they'd be fine..."

"Oh, little man..." sighed Avi.

"Please don't be mad at me?" Magnus snivelled.

"I'm not mad," said Avi. "I'm... disappointed."

Fat tears rolled down Magnus' cheeks as his bottom lip trembled.

La'ming left son to father and took a perch near her twins.

The attending cleric had some insulin, and was calculating the proper dose. "Don't touch," she advised. "They bite."

"They've bitten me before," said La'ming. Years ago, now. After a bad set of nightmares. When they didn't know who she was.

Lulu and Koko twitched under her hands, but inhaled her scent and relaxed a little. Well. They stopped struggling and breathed just a little bit deeper. They still maintained their distress purrs, La'ming could feel the subtle vibrations. She tld them, "It's going to be okay," even though she doubted they could hear her.

The needles went in with their doses. In minutes, the symptoms started to fade. Pupils shrank. Hair unfurled. Breaths deepened. Tears formed and fell.

"We thought we'd be okay," said Lulu.

"We thought all that stuff about sugar being bad was bunk," said Koko.

"Are you mad at us?" they chorused. Kid code for, _Are we getting thrown away?_ in their case.

They were already getting drowsy, thanks to the sugar crash. "I'll be mad at you tomorrow, when you can appreciate it." By tomorrow, they'd be out of danger. Back to normal, if hung over. An overnight in the hospital followed by a comprehensive lecture on what processed sugar did to little Elven bodies should be enough to keep them away from the stuff for another eighty-nine years or even more. La'ming hoped for more.

Avi carried Magnus home, sobbing, in his arms.

La'ming wouldn't get such a privilege until the next morning.

* * *

 

 

Magnus' hands gripped tighter to his chair when he heard Dad come home. This was it. This was the thing he'd been terrified of all afternoon. This was the moment he'd wind up in the doghouse or worse. They had a pigeon cage up on the roof garden. They'd exile him up there for sure. He was no longer fit to be in civilised company. He knew that with an unbreakable certainty.

He'd been too scared to eat. He'd been too scared to do anything. He just sat there, on the hard kitchen chair. Waiting for the inevitable.

"...been just sitting there since I got him home," said Papa.

Dad put away his work stuff and knelt into Magnus' vision, which blurred with tears. "I hear you made some bad choices, kiddo."

Maybe it was the gentle tone of his voice. Maybe it was the caring and gentle way he did it. Maybe it was the kind and careful hand on his own. Whatever it was, Magnus broke, bursting into inconsolable tears because this was _the end_ and it was all his fault... They were going to throw him out and make him sleep in the pigeon pen and they'd never hug him or cook for him or care about him ever again. Lulu and Koko were _in hospital_ and it was all his fault and he didn't mean for it to happen like that, he thought he was just being nice and they said it was okay and please, _please_ don't be mad, he didn't mean it...

He came out of the cry sandwiched between his dads. They were swaying gently and making soothing noises and still hugging him and still caring about him and Magnus didn't have the tears in him to howl about that.

"Everyone makes that mistake, sweetie," said Dad. "It's kind'a one of the hazards of life. Some people do it 'cause they think it'll be funny. Some just don't understand. You? You were trying to be sure your friends didn't miss out."

Papa said, "You're a kind kid, slugger," and ruffled his hair. "Lulu and Koko are going to be fine. The hospital stay is just for observation. Making sure they don't get into any more trouble."

Sniff. "I'm... I'm not getting thrown out?"

"Never," Dad smooched his cheek. "You learned from this, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he managed, voice hoarse from all the tears. "I'm never letting Lulu and Koko have sugar again, I promise." He made an X over his heart with a finger.

"That's all we wanted," said Papa. "Think you can have a little dinner, now? We made hamburger casserole..."

Actually... now that they mentioned it... Magnus was feeling mighty hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] I just made that up, but when you think of it, a being that lives for 750 years would need more than typical Human-type dentin.


	21. Nonny Request #107

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Sno Highchurch sassing all THB.

“Da-a-ad...”

“He’s your  _dad?”_  

Nono rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he adopted me years back and--”

“Who told you that you were adopted?” Merle was playing the fool rather well, but this was an old joke from way back.

Nono sighed as the other two chucklefucks took up the goof. This, she decided, meant something approaching war. It did not take long for the opening volleys.

“Hey. Hey. Druid... whatever your name is...”

“Yes, honoured elder?” Ooh! That one made him twitch. He had the signs of someone who’d lived through Saint Vingo’s and that was one phrase she could turn like a knife. Best to keep it for special occasions, then.

For the rest of the time, she taunted him with ‘grampa’ and senility jokes at his expense. She knew damn well that he just didn’t want to bother remembering anything, and therefore didn’t keep track.

“Can you do anything about that big door?” said Magnus Burnsides, big dumb lug and meat shield for everyone else.

“I could play ‘shave and a haircut’ on it,” Nono offered. “It doesn’t have any locks. No handles. Nothing. There’s nothing  _for_  me to do on it.”

“Tree shape it or something, I dunno.”

“Yeah, you don’t. Thanks for pointing that out, Lugnuts.”

It was later, Chaos had happened. They were scooped up by the Orc lady and ferried to the moon. Well. Not a moon. A cleverly-made secret base in the sky. Hiding the best that advanced science had to offer. Also people in uniforms and a truly gross feeling in her inner ear.

“So...” prompted Taako.

“Yes, grampa?”

“Use whatever your ninja skills are and find out some shit.”

“Oh, but Papà forbade me from talking to strangers, good gentle sir.”

Glare from Merle. “You can’t be feeling that terrible, you’ve still got a mouth on you.”

“You know they’re not detachable, Papà.”

In spite of how they were feeling, Lugnuts laughed.


	22. Nonny Request #108

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> AFTERNATH OF KOKOS SPELL PLEASE

_You can’t pay for your heart’s desire with your heart._  -- Lois McMaster Bujold.

Sunlight peeked through the rainclouds, but it was the rain that made Koko aware that he’d survived the spellcasting process. His hand hurt from the bloodletting, and the concrete of the roof had sucked all the body heat out of him. Not the most comfortable sleeping surface.

He sat up, and saw that the sigil he’d drawn in blood and chalk was still steaming a black vapour where the chalk and blood had crossed. It had worked. Every being connected by love would have the same lifespan as an Elf.

Neat.

Maybe.

The spell gave the signs it was supposed to, but he had no actual way to tell if it had worked, despite watching his best Humanman friend age into decay before Koko could legally marry any given sweetheart.

Okay. So that thought didn’t hurt like it usually did. That was... a sign.

It was a sign that the sacrifice was taken, anyway.

He crept back down the fire escape and into the bedroom he shared with Lulu. She was already awake and working on something for Elf Practice. She saw him in her mirror and turned. He saw it in an instant. Her worry. Her fear. Her concern.

None of it made an impact on Koko.

“So what were you out doing?”

“Just an experiment. Dunno if it worked,” he said. He felt no need to conceal the truth from her. His fear about that was gone. “Got into some interesting dark magic, but... There’s nothing to show for it yet.”

Lulu sighed. “You shouldn’t go to classes, today. You got blight on your neck. And... don’t joke about dark magic? It’s not a good goof. That shit’s hella dangerous.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Barry Bluejeans says this. Barry Bluejeans says that. Blah, blah, blah. He’s not gonna last.” Last night, words like that would have stabbed him, through and through, with pre-emptive sympathetic sorrow for his sister. None of that was there now.

“Crass, Koko. Knock it off. Get some rest. Gods.” Some Elves hit their Turbulent Twenties by going edgelord and dark, like Koko had. Lulu met hers with a relentless determination to enjoy every possible instant. Her clothing was bright and shiny and edging towards fluffy glitter princess. Her wardrobe was almost garish. Anything that glittered. Anything that shone brighter than it should. Anything, in brief, that was ultra girly.

Koko, deep into edgelord territory thanks to that asshole Sazed, had an entire wardrobe of blacks and very, very dark greys.

Lulu kissed him as he tucked himself in. It felt like living meat touching living meat. “Just look after yourself, okay?”

“...no reason not to,” he mumbled.

* * *

 

The news that everyone could live eight hundred years didn’t spread. Koko was the only one who knew it for weeks. Months. Then little things started happening.

Humanmen on the brink of death, especially dying of old age, started to rally. Started to regain some of their vigour. Humanman children started ‘Slowing down’ as they approached their twenties.

Baby Agnes, now nineteen, was complaining that she’d be an inch shorter than her mother ‘forever’. The twins Ambrose and Aloicious were also complaining that they weren’t growing up as fast as they should be.

They had no idea.

Koko didn’t see any reason to tell them. He didn’t have any real reason to do anything, really. His ability to care about doing stuff vanished with his ability to love. Now... he did things because it was easier than not doing them. He ate, washed, and dressed because it was easier than giving Mom and Lulu a fight about it. He went to Elf classes because it was less hassle than not going. He spoke up about what Sazed did to him because it was less bother than letting that scumbag out on the streets.

He did, however, stop dying his hair. Stopped cutting it, too. It was less bother to do nothing with it than maintain a look. He stopped wearing makeup, too. Stopped giving a shit about the hands-off aura he had once worked so hard to maintain.

He couldn’t care, anymore.

He had nothing left to care with. Emotion was just... out of his reach.

Sure, he could hang out and talk and do all the other things. Pretend to be someone who gave a shit. It was all a farce. He could be friends with Magnus and share jokes with the Pithons and do all the neighbour stuff and even taunt Bluejeans, but...

He was a shell.

A fake, outward play at being normal. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like... nothing and nobody mattered. It was a big old void, and everyone around him was just...

Talking dust.

Everyone was going to live, just like he wanted. His sister could laugh and love and enjoy the company of Bluejeans for as long as she liked, and that... that had been so important, once.

Now?

He couldn’t connect with why.

Every time he tried to feel, all he could reach was... static. Emotional static. Like his heart was just a muscle to move his blood around and keep his brain alive and that was it. He let it. It was less fuss than the alternatives.

Nevertheless, he kept looking over edges, whenever he was near. Like it would be so easy to go over them and, after a brief moment of pain, never be anything ever again.

He always had stuff to do. Arrangements to make. Appointments to keep.

...miles to go before he could sleep...

Besides, he had to live a long life to be certain the spell stuck. If he died of old age at seven hundred and fifty plus, so would the rest of the entire dang world. No further consequences, because love kept growing and spreading. It was just him in a living hell and that was fair.

He suffered, so no-one else would have to.

It was one morning like any other. The sun was turning the sky some neon colours and Koko was idly watching the river from on top of the bridge. Wondering if the spell was truly worth it. If it really would unravel if he stepped off the edge. If it was really worth going to that party like he promised.

Some stranger approached. Tall, elegantly sartorial. Koko would have lusted after him, once upon a time, but his lusting days were over.

“Oi beg yer pardon, young sir,” he said in a ludicrously fake cockney accent.

“Post office is straight down that way,” Koko pointed, “and then hang a left at Nonesuch Street. Can’t miss it.”

“Sorry, Oi’m not lookin’ fer the post office. I want to ask you about somefin you did...”

Koko glared at him. “If it’s about that fucking photo of me sweeping the street, you aughta know that the scumbag who took it is guilty of sexual assault on a minor. I’m the fucking minor.”

“Actually, I’m trying to track down someone who’s violated the laws of the Raven Queen,” he said.

“Necromancy? In this day and age? I didn’t know there was a death police, m’man.” Actually, tracking down death criminals sounded like something vaguely interesting. “Is the horrible accent part of the job description, handsome? ‘Cause that might be a deal-breaker.”

He had a nice laugh. “I know you’re the sacrifice, Koko Taaco-Ton. What I need to know is... was it forced? Or was it voluntary?”


	23. Reader Request #109

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Sno vs the raven queen from Koko’s spell

She was clad all in black from tip to toe. Most was a black so dark that it was nearly impossible to tell shape and form within it. She wore a white porcelain mask with a carmine bow of painted lips. She was unreal. She was real. She was the goddess to whom all must answer.

She was Death.

She was not taking her sibling if Sno could fucking help it.

“You can’t take him,” she argued. “He’s not dead.”

The thing that looked like a woman tilted that unearthly pale mask that could have been her face. “He is close,” she whispered. The spectre of Death never has to shout. It has never needed to. “He lives... only because it is too much bother to die.”

“True,” said Koko, held safe in her arms.

“You’re not helping, baby bro,” said Sno. “We’re fighting for your life, here.”

The man known as Kravitz, lately revealed as a Reaper stood between them. “My Queen. Please. He has paid enough and more than enough for what he has wrought. What would taking him to the Eternal Stockade remedy?”

“He has disrupted the flow of life and death,” she whispered.

“Rearranged,” said Koko. “I rearranged it.”

The white mask turned. Its empty eye holes failed to intimidate. “You. Dare?” she whispered.

“Yeah. You got it wrong, there, birdie.” Only someone who had no emotion could dare talk to the Raven Queen like that. He could not fear because he had no love left. Not for his life, not for anyone else’s. “I rearranged the flow. Like. Weirs, dams, and canals kind’a thing. Listen. Everyone alive still has the chance to donk things up so bad they beef it. Meanwhile, if they look after themselves, they could live as long as an Elf. It’s not immortality. It’s... It’s making everyone’s race the same distance.”

The living shadow moved, and Sno flinched him away. “He’s only thirty. He’s practically a baby! If you take him before he dies, you’re just as bad a criminal as you say he is!” Sno took out her wand. She’d seen what had happened to all the others who tried to use their powers to fight the Raven Queen, but she took it out anyway. If this bitch was going to take Koko, it was going to be over her dead body. “Back. Off.”

“Why’re you even fighting for me?” said Koko. “It’s not like I could ever be happy anyway...”

_There was the sound of knitting needles..._

Another figure was present in this space. A figure of veils and rainbows and eternally clicking needles that ravelled together the threads of fate. If she had eyes, none could focus on them, yet she saw all.

“Do not snap this thread, Raven. My weave has changed. So many paths are altered. He is the crux.”

Those who were conscious there all said, “What?” in turn. That included the Raven Queen.

“He has forestalled the end of the world. He has reversed the path of the great ruin. We must help this child.”

“What?” said Koko.

The bristle of onyx feathers around the Raven Queen’s collar flattened and the gigantic shadow shrank. “You claim him as yours?”

“I do,” said Istus.

“Then we shall see the echo of the wound in his soul,” whispered the Raven Queen. “We shall see what can be done... to heal it.”

Sno still had her wand aimed at the black figure. “You hurt him, I kill you.”

“You... may certainly try...” She had long, black talons instead of hands. “I will not harm him. I will not take him. You have... my promise.”

Istus said, “I shall keep him safe.”

Of the two, Sno trusted Istus a little more. She lowered her wand, and relaxed her guard on Koko. The kid remained where he was, as apathetic as he had been for five entire years.

Threads sprang out of both Istus’ knitting and Koko’s body. Beautiful things of every hue, in a tangle that was impossible to follow with a mortal eye. Long black talon and elegant finger both traced the knots. A discussion occurred in a language Sno could not comprehend.

They were... bickering? It was certainly an animated huddle. Fingers pointed to one crucial spot, just as Lulu recovered enough to shakily sit up. Istus summoned something that looked almost like a crochet hook and made a few deft moves.

“What’re you doing to my baby brother?”

The threads returned to their origin point. Koko was weeping. “Lulu... Lulu, you’re okay?”

Lulu launched herself at him. “You’re back! You’re back, I can feel it! You’re back...”

“I’m back,” he said. “But... the spell? Did you break it?”

“No,” whispered the Raven Queen. “Your work is intact.”

“All I did was stop the source now that it’s no longer needed,” said Istus. “Mortals. You all think it’s all or nothing with things. Don’t. Remember that you need to stop and breathe.”

Kravitz was murmuring in the Raven Queen’s ear. Or maybe the side of her head. It was hard to tell. “Yes,” she breathed. “You have not had any time for yourself... you may go, though I may call on you if I have need.”

Koko breathed. Shaky, uneven breaths. Loaded with emotion. His mismatched eyes were heavy with tears. His face didn’t know what to do. “Mom... Mama... Mags... Everyone... Is everyone okay?”

Sno almost crushed him in her hug. Lulu was right. He was back. Back to the sensitive, caring, loving kid he had been when he became so upset with mortality that he wanted to change the entire world.

Sno had never been so happy to have that Koko back.


	24. Reader Request #110

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neondragon54 on Chapter 20:  
> Hey. Can I give you a prompt without seeming to rude.   
> Can you do a thing where they’re all sitting there IPRE entrance exam and the nerves and all that.
> 
> My maths a-s level is today and I’m really nervous about it and I’ve been reading these daily since about halfway your first Drabble set thing and honestly seeing if you have updated has turned into a daily thing for me now, there that good.
> 
> [AN: Best of luck with your standardized testing results]

They shouldn't be nervous. They were valedictorian and salutatorian for that year at Neverwinter Academy. They were the loveliest rags-to-richest story that had ever hit the Fantasy Newspapers. They should be shoe-ins for joining the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. The thing was... they had exams with a  _lot_ of essay questions.

Lup and Taako were taking the Arcanist's exam, and they were looking for the best of the best to just enter their gates. After they were in, they would be looking for the cream of that crop for some of that research and exploration that they were about. As far as the twins knew, there could be someone even better at this than them. Slim chance, but they were fucking geniuses.

Besides, if all else failed, they could take the Cook's exam and show up anyone with higher test scores with their cunning and guile.

Taako only glanced towards his sister, stretching from the effort of answering the first page. She was already halfway through the second, but the whole world knew that Lup was the smart one. He didn't check her answers. She was better than him. Always. Cheating off her wouldn't do squat. If he couldn't get in as himself, he could always run the Two For One Sale and be her on alternate days.

But who wouldn't want Taako? They'd have to have Int  _and_ Wis as a dump stat to turn him down.

Taako flexed his hands and did a couple of breaths, and looked at the second page.  _Explain in detail the ingredients for the spell Create Homunculus._

Yikes. At least it was transmutation. Taako began with some palaver about the rules of equal exchange, how life could not be created -even temporarily- without blood and pain and a certain amount of cost. The other ingredients, clay, ash, and a mandrake root, were the usual ingredients for the gods' creations... though not always the mandrake. That part just gave the clay form.

Onwards.

_Rate the following list of spells in terms of usefulness and explain your logic._

Brains all through the testing room were creaking. Taako considered the list. Whoof. Those were some _interesting_ ones...

Lup finished page three. Glanced over at him. Spent more time reading and considering her questions.

_We're going together,_ she had said that morning.  _We're passing together. If they only want one of us, then fuck them._

Taako couldn't let her fall short of her dream. He smirked for her and started writing a little faster, noting that she started writing a little slower. He started working just a little harder.

It was all well and good saying,  _Answer the easy questions first,_ when there even  _were_ some easy questions. This test was a hundred percent hard ones. Taako could hardly keep track, especially when his page three didn't match Lup's. Fuck. Personalised tests. No way he could work with that. No way he could be certain of staying one point lower than Lulu.

She deserved to get in. She was the one who was hustling for it. She was the twin who had her heart on the table.

Taako introduced a few spelling mistakes. Just in case the assholes grading this shit were elitists.

It. Took. Hours.

Finally, Lup stood, so he stood too. All done. Or at least, all answered to the best of their ability. Interestingly, they were still the first amongst the red-robed arcanists to bring their tests to the front. Either they were gods-damned geniuses or gods-blessed idiots. Time would tell.

The day had turned to a pleasant afternoon twilight as they emerged onto the campus of their dreams. Of Lup's dreams. Slightly over a century ago, their biggest dream was living another year. Now, they were sweating cobs about getting into a fancy job.

"I dunno about you," said Lup, "but I could murder a curry."

"Let's go to that curry and cake place," said Taako. "I need chocolate."

Two days later, they were in with the cream of the crop, and the newspapers were in love with them all over again. The two highest entrance scores to ever be submitted to the IPRE.


	25. Reader Request #111

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> For that autism thing I tagged you in, can we get Ango helping Sno?

**Canon**

There was an impossibly small boy writing in a notebook. The pencil seemed to be moving too fast for a child of his apparent age. Officer Snocoun Ton boggled at the boy. He was smaller than some dolls she had seen for sale in the fancier parts of Rockport.

He looked up from his work, noticed her, and waved. “Hello, ma’am. Are you the officer sent by the Rockport Militia?”

Sarcasm bubbled out of her. “No, I’m a serial child molester and now you’ve told me everything I need to know to abduct you.”

His smile was relentless. “That’s a pretty good goof, ma’am, but that uniform is too old to be a rented costume, and too well-kept for that as well...” he spent the next twenty minutes detailing every last tell that showed how she really was a Rockport officer and not -for example- someone attempting to impersonate one.

“Okay. I get it. You’re a genius. Why can a literal child help the Rockport Militia?”

“I have a fascination with crime, puzzles, and mysteries, ma’am. I’ve run out of the normal ones, so I’ve taken to reading the Watch Blotters and... well... I think I have something that might help find and apprehend the serial murderer known as Cheerful Charlie.”

Sno was tempted enough to peer at the notebook over this child’s shoulder, and found weird little sigils within. “That’s... scribble,” she said.

“It looks like that to the untrained eye, ma’am, but this is a form of code. I’m only three, so writing is a little complicated, so I used this code to write things faster. It’s a variant of Elscrypt, and each of these symbols is a whole word. I cut my time down even further by cutting out unnecessary bulk words.”

“Uhuh,” she said, doubting this in its entirety. It wouldn’t be above the Chief to send her out after a crank witness. “And what does this Elscrypt tell you about Cheerful Charle?”

“Well, ma’am, he only seems to have a random attack pattern because he strikes in the streets. I’ve plotted all the confirmed murders on a map and they all happen between two districts. The Crumbledowns, and the Meat-packing factories.” He turned the pages towards a map with a number of red ink dots.

Sno felt a chill. Seeing it like that... It looked really obvious.

“I posit, ma’am, that Cheerful Charlie strikes on their way to and from their place of employ. I’ve outlined the likely travel routes in green.”

Holy shit.

“And you want how much for this?”

“Oh, I don’t want money,” he said. “I just want to help the constabulary apprehend this offender.”

**Glass Canon**

It didn’t take a genius to see that Snocoun Ton, misplaced Elf from a different dimension, was not a happy camper on the moon. The Sno he was used to ordinarily had her pointed ears drooping downwards, but this Sno had hers almost all the way down and more often back than not.

She was separated from her family, from her home, from people she loved and from people who loved her. She was worried about everyone she knew, and surrounded by bizarre doppelgangers that just threw everything into sharper and deeper contrast.

There was little he could do to be concrete help. What she needed was something a little boy could not provide - a way home. What he could provide was company - however strange it was to her. Or some form of... bonding activity.

Sno -  _his_  Sno - took more than a little time to warm up to anyone. She seemed to treat time here on the moon as an unnecessary distraction. What he needed to do was help her find it necessary.

Sno was always devoted to her work.

So. He had some plans. Bonding over Steamwork Fiction - or as she called it, Steampunk - or bonding over solving a mystery. He could help with either, so he prepared both.

He found a couple of volumes of Fantasy Jules Verne, and a file of arcane activity in recent months. Clutching both of these prizes, he took them to where Sno was sunning herself in the quad. She looked close to tears.

“May I intrude, ma’am?”

She opened her eyes, stared at him, and shrugged. “I know you know me as... a different kind of Angus, but... I know a different kind of you. I thought... maybe these could help... if not help you feel better, then at least help distract you from the stuff that’s making you sad.”

She upgraded from depressed to melancholic. It was a slim sort of progress, but at least it  _was_  progress.

**Three Gremlins**

Angus was pretty darn good at hiding. It came from being small. He was almost due to turn seven, which meant that Nono was seven and a half. She shot up like any Beach Elf in an environment of love and care. Therefore, she looked to be in her early teens at a stretch, and late tweens for sure.

It was bad enough that she couldn’t act her age, what made it worse was that she had decided to use Taako’s show to search for her birth mother. It had been months, and there wasn’t any sign of her.

This was definitely a case he could take on. Therefore, between shows, he got Nono to tell him everything she knew about her mother. Most of it was hearsay from her grandparents, who disapproved of her, but there had to be some truths in the vile rumours they were wont to believe.

He had a few pieces of information he could attempt to confirm. One: Minmin Ton was seventy-eight years of age. If she were living and working with Humanmen, then she could easily be pretending to be one hundred and one. Taako had said, more than once, that he had pulled a similar ruse when he was underage. Some were even fooled.

Minmin Ton had a sketchy reputation ever since Nono’s conception was confirmed. The rumours were so varied and so disgusting that Angus discounted them all.

Interestingly, it was Taako’s drunken horror stories that were most informative. Whilst he couldn’t give the exact address where Minmin might live, as most of them were gentrified by now, he could give the  _shape_  of the area where she might be. In Rockport, they were called the Crumbledowns, in Goldcliff, they were called the Shanties. In one distant city, its name forgotten by Taako, they were called the Shades. Here in Neverwinter, they were called the Shambles.

Every town had them. They were the areas where the flotsam of the city tended to wash up. Because the rents were cheap. Because the landlords didn’t ask questions. Because the entire place was full of folk who were scraping to get by. Because bigger criminals called the lesser criminals who lived there ‘scum’ and ‘villains’. Because birds of a feather flocked together. Because the miserable loved company.

Places like that didn’t have citizens. They had  _denizens._  They grew gangs like reefs grew moray eels, sharks, and octopi. It was a dangerous place. Even the little fish had sharp, sharp teeth.

Angus didn’t dress fancy to go in there. Neither did Nono. They knew damn well that, in a place like that, nobody would pay any attention at all to two more grubby kids in their braies and tunics, so that was what they wore.

Roaming through the Shambles, they found her. Walking the streets in a skirt made out of something gauzy and starfish pasties on her breasts. She had a distinctive chain around her waist and an equally distinctive amulet around her neck. Earning money with the only thing she could sell. Working a job that she clearly hated.

She recognised Nono in an instant. Looked to Angus in brief horror, and then to his ears in relief.

She said, “What happened to Gamgam and Peepums?”

Nono said, “They were assholes,  so I ran off. I’m in a better home, now.”

_“Here?”_

“No... With a travelling show. The dude’s nice.” Considering Taako’s stories, Nono knew what was up with Minmin’s work. “Come on and at least meet him. He might be able to help.”

Minmin shrugged. “Eh. I can’t make rent today anyhow.” She threw on a cloak she had hidden in a junk pile. “I’ll tell my story and you can tell yours.”

“Deal,” said Nono.


	26. Nonny Request #109

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> From the ask of having Taako pregnant with Angus, can we have everyone visiting Taako, Kravitz, and Angus right after he is born?

[AN: To save on archive trawling, that one is [this thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17400989/chapters/43716692#workskin).]

They came the day after someone else had cleaned up all the mess. The nice thing about putting a new being into the world was that nobody expected much out of you for, like, weeks. On the other hand, hachi machi, it fuckin’ hurt.

Yet all of that was worth it for the incredibly tiny bean nestled in the crook of his arm. Sound asleep and unaware of everything but his Apa’s scent and heartbeat. At least until the invading horde came in.

“Please be quiet. If you wake the baby, we will literally kill you,” warned Krav.

Magnuts entered first, followed my Merle “plantfucker” Highchurch. Tailing behind them was Lup and Barold. All on stocking feet, all in breathless wonderment.

“Oh my gods...” whispered Mango. “Is it baby Angus or baby Lulu?”

Taako was still wiped out, but being catered to hand and foot was helping him rally magnificently. “Meet baby Angus, literally born yesterday.”

A little hand stretched outwards and Mango intercepted it with his finger. That tiny new hand couldn’t reach around Magnus’ meaty digit. Amazingly, this caused the big lug to cry.

“...’s so smol...” he whimpered.

“Yeah, that’s completely normal,” growled Merle, barely remembering to keep his voice down. “What, you expected him to come out instantly ten years old?”

“Oof, gods no,” mumbled Taako. “This was more than enough of a job to get out. I still feel tender.”

_“Everyone goes gaga for babies,” Merle complained. “Or should I say ‘googoo gaga for babies...”_

Lup just crawled up on the bed with them. “Aaaw... lookit those stiff little half-Elf ears... Do they wiggle and jiggle when he has a little drinkie?”

_“What’s the point? There’s babies born every day. Thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands...”_

“You’re not stealing my baby, Lulu. You and Barold can make your own.”

_“Babies every gods-damned where...”_

She glared at him, in between careful strokes of that exposed arm. “How the fuck did you manage to do this before I could?”

_“And every single time, oooh, they’re so small...”_

“Jealous?”

_“...oooh they’re so tiny...”_

Lup looked away from him, but couldn’t stop looking at Angus. “...yes.”

_“Like you’d want a Fantasy Green Bay Linebacker to pop out?”_

“Well... both of us thought it wouldn’t happen, so precautions went out the window and... you know how everyone was in a mood after we won the war...” He shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t attached to the arm holding his baby. “It happened anyway. Will of Istus, I dunno.”

_“There’s only so much room, up in there, what the fuck do you expect?”_

“Istus should’a given me one, too.”

_“Why is it so Pan-damned surprising every single time?”_

“You didn’t have a body at the time.”

Angus whimpered. Just a single note of complaint, but it was enough to make the whole room freeze. The whole room except Krav, who got to do the changing and, if things were particularly messy, the bathing as well.

He zoomed in and hovered, watching their son intently. “Is it almost time for Daddy to come to the rescue?” he cooed. “Does my little baby boy want some Daddy cuddles?”

Angus smacked his tongue and remained asleep.

Krav did not deflate. “I made a beautiful baby,” he said, apropos of nothing. “All that hard work was worth it.”

Taako glared at him. He’d been like that for Angus’ entire life so far. “You know,” he said, “as I recall, bone daddy, I was the one doing the hard work. You were just... circling like a vulture.”

“And taking you to prenatal checks, and making sure you had the right nutrition,” Krav added. “And giving you massages and looking after you and taking care of the catbox so you didn’t have to. And I bought us all that baby stuff.”

Taako sighed. “You did, but I still maintain that that wasn’t as much hard work as growing and birthing this little nugget.”

Angus released Magnus’ finger and let out a more determined whimper. Magnuts almost leaped away and said, “I didn’t do it.”

“Now he wants Daddy,” sighed Taako. He helped with the transfer and slumped back into the pillows. He looked imploringly at his sister. “Are you  _sure_  you want your own? It’s a rough gig.”

“I’ll take two dozen like that one,” she insisted. “Poop, crying, and territorial husband boasting included.”

Barold, so far quiet and out of the way, turned bright red. He had been married to Lup for fifty worlds, in love with her for over a century, directly in her aura for literal decades, and he  _still_  blushed like a choirboy every time her lust was pointed in his direction.

“Good luck,” said Taako. They were going to need it.


	27. Reader Request #112

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DeathsKitten on Chapter 22:  
> Ooooooh! You KNOW all is faithful readers are all over this! Could you please write more of this story? Pretty please?

Koko couldn't find a metaphor accurate enough to describe having his emotions back after a five-year stretch without them. It was... It was a sudden plunge into ice-cold water after a hot day. It was an equally surprising hot bath. It was sensation returning to a limb that had had the circulation cut off. It was breathing clean air after being immersed in the toxic cloud of a million smokers. It was seeing a rainbow. It was watching the stars twinkle and knowing that it was caused by ripples in the atmosphere. It was looking up at a dinosaur skeleton for the first time. It was coaxing a small animal into your hands and having it sit there and trust you. It was snapping awake from a nightmare. It was realising that all was well, that you were safe, that your family was close. It was the stinging agony of a sunburn. It was the soft and gentle tickle of an evening breeze.

It was all of these and more.

Koko spent like two weeks in a pleasant haze, amazed and in awe. His heart was more than a muscle again. He could  _feel._ He could laugh, he could cry, he could rage, he could do it all. Though, more often than not, he found tears escaping his eyes. Happy ones, sad ones, angry ones. It didn't matter. His eyes were wont to leak, these days.

He chopped off the last of his dyed hair and started stealing Lulu's clothes until he got a little bit more of a varied wardrobe. Black was out for Koko. He'd had enough of it. Besides, black looked a hell of a lot better on the fellow down the road. Kravitz.

Koko didn't remember a great deal of the final confrontation, but he remembered Kravitz was pretty cool, and he was taking some time off to keep an eye on Koko. Make surer any further Dark Magic shenanigans didn't happen. He worked in the bookshop near the tutorials centre where the twins went every day for Elf Practice. Koko had glimpsed his locs or his night-dark skin moving around in there as he passed, and waved.

Today... today, he was going in.

Kravitz was very well-formed. Slightly taller than Koko, but Koko was getting used to being the short-ass. Barely. He was involved in rearranging some books on the shelves and stepped under a skylight.

_Holy shit, he's beautiful..._

That night-dark skin was iridescent, gleaming gold where the sunshine hit. Turning Kravitz from humanman-shaped shadow in a nice suit to a minor godling who enjoyed slumming with the mortals.

"Good morning," said Kravitz, sans his terrible cockney accent. "How can I help you?"

He was staring. He knew he was staring. He couldn't stop staring. He wished he could stop drooling like that.

Lulu shut his mouth with a finger. "My brother and I are looking for a copy of  _Venrathi's Transformative Runes and How to Use Them,"_ she said. "If it's in good condition, even better."

Koko was transfixed. Kravitz moved like a dancer. How had he not noticed before? He moved like a dancer and was so graceful and he wore  _cravats_ with a vest and oh gods, that was a skull-and-wing pattern in black-on-black and he had beautiful silver beads in his hair and...

Koko knew his heart was working for sure, because it was threatening to bust out of his ribcage. Because it was in his throat, stopping any words before they got out.

He had a little bird skull pin keeping his cravat in place, and little skull-and-crossbones cufflinks. Silver. Every piece of jewellery he had was silver. He was elegance incarnate. He was beauty turned flesh. He was...

He was asking a question!

"Huh?"  _Smooth move, ex-lax... now he thinks you're a moron._ "Sorry. My mind was elsewhere."

_"Like, right down his pants?"_ teased Lulu in  _Us._

He elbowed her. "Mind repeating that, handsome?"

"I said we got tenth edition and twelve point five. Which would you prefer?"

_You on a bed of lettuce. No! Can't say those words out loud..._ "Uhm..." his voice cracked as he tried to say even that much.

"Our tutor said to try and get tenth if we could," said Lulu. "That's the version he uses."

Kravitz bagged up two tenth editions of  _Venrathi's Transformative Runes and How to Use Them._ "Anything else?"

Koko was still staring.

Lulu whispered in his ear, "Gonna spend a decade before even talking to him like I did, goofus?"

Koko shouted, "WHEN DO YOU GET OFF I WANNA BUY YOU A COFFEE OR SOMETHING!"

Oh sweet Fantasy Jesus, he had perfect teeth. They shone like the sun. "We can meet up for coffee at five," he said. "I'm sure you have lots of questions I could help you with."

Lulu muttered in  _Us, "Yeah, like his inseam measurement..."_

Koko almost died from the vermillion fires of mortification.  _"Damnit Lulu... cut me a break..."_

_"No fuckin' way. I wanna have fun with this."_ Smiling, she paid the man and forcibly pushed Koko back onto the sidewalk. "See you at five, Ghost Rider."


	28. Reader Request #113

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ContentWithDiscontent on Chapter 23:  
> What is going to h a p p e n to Taako and it is relieving that he's been healed (seriously where's a pair of depression-healing goddesses when you need them huh) but still I Need to Know what happens next

_What did you do there? - I got high_  
What did you feel there? - Well I cried  
But why the tears there? - I'll tell you why - yyyyy   
It's all too beautiful, It's all too beautiful  -- Itchycoo Park, by Small Faces

Two leaves of 'lion hadn't worked. Not really. Not when Kravitz turned up. Taako's eyes leaked a little, blurring an otherwise perfect view. Kravitz the golden godling. Kravitz the stunningly handsome. Kravitz the beautiful. Kravitz, who had taken care to be within a very few years of Koko's age.

Also, Kravitz the corpse, according to Lulu. She was probably lurking around, waiting to spoil everything at a choice moment. The thought made him pre-emptively depressed.

That was the trouble with his reinvigorated heart. It took things to extremes.

Kravitz smiled his perfect smile at Koko. A soft, gentle, wonderful, beautiful and above all  _natural_ smile that was more than a little goofy and Koko loved it. "Don't cry," he said.

"I keep tryin'a stop," said Koko. "It just happens..." Did he go for those elegant hands? Dare he embrace? Koko wanted to lunge at the man and suck face until he passed out, but... technically, they'd only recently met. "Um." Now he was blushing  _and_ crying. Shit.

"Still overwhelmed?" Those elegant hands twitched. Well. At least neither of them knew how much touching was okay.

"Yeah."

"Want to go somewhere a little more secluded?" he gestured towards an empty gazebo. Far enough away from people who might stare, but not so far as to be away from actual help if things went south. He was so considerate that Koko...

Koko wiped his face, and took yet another swig of water. "It wouldn't be so bad except I hardly ever stop crying. It's almost pathetic."

"I don't think it's pathetic. You... Koko, you've possibly been through too much for one intelligent being to bear. Being emotional is... it's a natural reaction."

Amazingly...  _that_ worked. Koko had a break in his personal weather. "Gods, you're amazing," he breathed.

Kravitz smiled as they took a seat in the sunshine, and Koko got a chance to admire that golden sheen on that sculpted flesh for a solid minute. Kravitz looked like he was admiring his view, too.

"So. Um. What is... this?" Koko gestured between them with a back-and-forth pointing finger. "Are you like my parole officer, counsellor... teacher? Or... what?"

"I'd like to be a friend, first," said Kravitz. "It's been a long time since I was in the world of the living for more than an appointment. It's been a long time since you've... felt whole. Perhaps we can help each other out."

Koko giggled and swept some of his hair behind his left ear. His right hand was creeping ever closer to Kravitz's left. Was that gold-touched hand as smooth as it looked?

He went for it.

Colder than ice! Colder than the grave, certainly. As cold as... As cold as...

"Oh boy," he shrank away, and hated himself for it. "Oh boy, that is a clammy one..."

Now Kravitz shrank away. "I'm... I'm sorry. It's... I'm not... I didn't..."

"No! No, you can't help it. I'm sorry. I didn't wanna hurt your feelings, but I guess I donked up there, huh?"

"I can forgive that," he said. Kravitz had a shy smile. "Koko... what you did was extremely dangerous. That spell? There were so many ways it could have failed. There are so many ways it could have consumed you. You must have done some research to get to that place, to that decision. Why? Why did you do it? You had to know it was dangerous."

Koko thought about it. This was defs not first date material. But if it meant more time in the company of this debilitatingly handsome man... "Figured, life was gonna shit on me anyway, so..." he stopped. No. Kravitz deserved the entire story. He took out his phone and found That Picture in one simple search.

_Angel with Street Broom._

He handed it over. "The man who took that knew I was sixteen. He knew I was too young for... adult stuff. But he told me I was beautiful and he said I seemed so mature and he wanted me to be his muse. He wanted me to be his model. He... he wanted some sick fucking stuff, at the end of it. I didn't see any of it coming. I didn't  _want_ to." Koko took the phone back, got rid of the image. "He's in jail for the rest of his life, now."

"Good riddance to bad rubbish," said Kravitz.

"So... we aged out of the mixed education part of school and start Elf Practice. Well. Advanced history and heritage with a focus on Elven lore, magic and shit... and one of our tutors... My sister..." He could say this better. "Lulu gets a crush on this Humanman who's her age. Like... major league crush. Like, in love five-ever crush. Hard knocks, balls to the wall, fucking..." the tears edged in. He wiped them away. "Humanmen don't last. Even though they're the same age? He's likely to die before she's legally able to marry him. I know Lulu. She-- She's a one-guy gal, you know? One love, for all of her life.  _All_ of her life."

Kravitz whistled backwards.

"Yeah. Every romance where there's a Humanman and an Elf? Fucking tragedy, every single time. I know she's into him, and he's... He blushes like a schoolkid every single time she flirts. It's embarrassing. It took her ten years to just... talk to him voluntarily. She has it hard for the dude. And... It wasn't fair. Lulu'd already been through enough getting a body that fits her. She didn't need this. So... I started doing my homework."

"None of the material stopped you?"

"Dude... I would do  _anything_ for my sister. I mean... I was already that kid in that picture. My life was already ruined. Hers... didn't have to be. I figured I'd never fall in love again, anyway, so. Yeah. I gave up my love so she could have hers. Fair trade, right?"

"Hardly fair, considering what it did to you."

"Worth it," Koko insisted. "She has him for the rest of her life. So he's a little wrinkled, so he's a little grey, she doesn't care. She'll match when they hit five hundred and something. Lulu's gonna be happy. Worth it."

"Even the years when you couldn't feel? Koko, when we met, you were contemplating a long trip off the short side of a bridge."

"I did that on the daily, m'man," shit. With his heart back, those words terrified him. "I always had other plans, though. Obligations. Errands. A day job... I was..." he couldn't say it. "I wasn't fine, was I?"

Kravitz shook his lovely head. "You were very far away from being fine."

Koko sighed. "I get that, now. I was in a bad fucking place. It sucks to just... endure... from day to day."

"I have to confess," said Kravitz. "I've done more than a little enduring myself. It doesn't hurt until after it's done."

Koko found the bravery to look up into those deep, dark, doe eyes. He didn't fall in, but it was a close thing. "Does it stop?"

"I don't know. I've only just started not enduring."

Whoah. One more thing they had in common. "We should both totally enjoy life, y'know?" he found himself blurting. "Carpe the fuck outta the diem b'fore we start dyin'."

"Sounds like a good philosophy. Where would you recommend we start?"

Koko thought about it. Ice cream was right out. Dude was already too cold. "I know a place that'll sell you doughnuts fresh outta the oil," he said. "Crisp and crunchy and almost dripping cinnamon and maple sugar..."  _And afterwards I can see how well it warmed your lips by testing them with mine..._

"Sounds like an experience," said Kravitz. "Lead the way."

* * *

 

 

Sitting on the other side of the pathway, breaking up a duck bun[1] for the avians in the pond, Sildar "Barry Bluejeans" Hallwinter watched a young couple stroll away from the gazebo. "I thought you were spying on your brother with a plan to fuck him up..."

"Look at him," dismissed Lulu. "He's already fucked up."

"And?" Barry prompted in that annoying teacher way he had.

"And he's not crying for a change. I figure he needs it."

"And?"

"And he's smiling."

"And?"

Now it was Lulu's turn to have the crimson tides of mortification flood her face. "Andhe'sbeenthroughtoomuchformeandtheentireworldandhedeservesabreak. OKAY?"

Barry flicked a morsel to a swan and watched the bird gobble up the peas and carrot shavings. "Well, okay," he allowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Something like horse bread, but made for ducks.


	29. Reader Request #114

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DeathsKitten on Chapter 25:
> 
> I was watching old animatics and saw the "Taako doesn't want to loot a bank" scene, and I had a thought.  
>  Would the reason taako doesn't want to rob a bank in your universe perhaps be lingering fear of militia and how they might react to petty theft, especially by an elf, considering the wars and what have you? And considering how he has reacted to that idea in some of your previous stories? (Ie the panic attack he had with Mak)  
>  We get so little interaction during the actual cannon story in your fics, I'd love to see your take. <3

Okay. That had hurt. Taako was a bit fuzzy on the deets, but he was relatively certain he'd nearly fucking died. He remembered pain, of course, and someone laying on hands. What was her name? Harley? Higgins? Hurley. Yeah. Her. Halfling Monk. Knows the bad lady. Swore the bad lady was not a killer despite fucking evidence to the contrary, and now they were in a medical tent and--

Oh shit.

Oh no.

Oh shit no.

Magnuts still had the fucking _stolen gold_ in his pack. The police were literally all around them and he had gods-damned stolen fucking _gold_ in his pouch.

Outwardly, Taako went very quiet. Cops had a _thing_ about Elves being near stolen anything. Stolen clothing. Stolen bread. Stolen babies... they said Elves would steal anything that was not nailed down and, if they had pliers, they would also steal the nails. Not one of them seemed to realise that any of this thievery came from not being allowed to have resources because of the damn war. Four hundred years ago, his ass. He was one among many of the casualties of the Xenophobia Wars and he was a hundred and ahem-cough-mumblety something.

Nevertheless, arguing this at cops also tended to get one shot at.

There was a gravely voice outside the tent and Taako considered feigning a swoon. Nope. That got your ass planted with all kinds of fake evidence, as well as frisked for contraband. He had his pipe and pouch on him. Enough for a possession rap he didn't need. Fuck. He was so boned, and not in the nicer way.

_Maybe I can seduce my way out of this. Guy like him can't be getting any..._

He froze on instinct when Bane entered the cool down tent. Chief of fucking police. You do _not_ attempt to seduce the chief of the fucking police. Well. Not until he proposed a way to settle things off the books, anyway. Besides, Bane seemed more concerned with what had happened with Little Miss Featherpants. The Raven. She had another name. Something...

Fuck. Taako was never any good at names. Too long with nowhere to call home, he never got close to anyone, never had anyone he could rely on for long. It was just a habit to treat people as if he'd never see them again, and it had worked wonderfully until he met these other two chucklefucks.

He ran goofs almost on automatic, lowering his eyelids and affecting a cat-like laziness to his attitude. Everyone knew that Elves were shiftless, when they weren't moving mountains to run a con... Hypocrisy of speciesist statements never ceased to amaze him, especially when one counterpoint hatefully cancelled out the other. The hate remained, of course, because nothing could make that shit go away. Either way, playing to one stereotype meant that Bane probably wouldn't notice how Taako's eyes kept drifting back to gaze at Mango's pack.

_Nine hundred gold is not petty larceny._

Somehow, they got through that, and talking with a _far_ more honest cop about the goings on. Gods. Taako had never spouted such a fountain of lame lies in his fucking _life..._ yet they were free and clear and committing theft for the police.

It was halfway through the streets of Goldcliff, headed for the Hammerheads' hideout, that the panic closed his throat up. He had survived, he was okay. He was okay. Taako's good out here. He's okay, he's okay, he's... not... okay.

Merle, the dumbass, packed his pipe with a bunch of fucking dandelion seeds and said, "Smoke this."

Had anyone survived pure fluff? Well, it was inhale or pass out, and he was passing out no matter what, so...

He inhaled.

He _could_ inhale the next breath, but decided not to do it though the pipe, thank you. That was enough fluff to zone Taako out until the end of the universe[1]. Okay. Breathe. Get that air in and don't go derpy. Easy enough. He was Taako. He'd once wowed an entire city with his Feast ala Flambé show whilst high off his ass on 'lion. This was... a little different. So he wasn't tripping balls, but he was definitely floating along a little. Good think he put out the pipe.

"You're still smoking."

Wait. What? No... No. Taako doesn't do infinity fluff. That's like so bad soooo sosososo so bad. You could die smoking pure fluff. There's this one guy? Who tried it? Thought he was an orange for th' restofhis life. Nev'r wanned hugs cuzzof didn wanna be squez'd.

Someone took the pipe from his hands. "You've had enough."

Don tellme when I had nuff, I know when I had nuff. 'M Taako. From TV. You fuckers weretheoneswhotookallathat gold. Fuckers. Yooooknow... you know who the cops're gonna blame? Elfs. Elfseses stealin' everythin' five-ever... Doin' crimes... alla times... nevereverever get any breaks. 'S not fair...

Taako belatedly realised that he was looking at Magnuts' ass. It was a nice ass. He liked that ass. Nice an' firm. Could play the bongos on it.

 

* * *

 

Magnus glared at Merle, who was still holding the pipe.

"What?" the Dwarf and alleged Cleric demanded. "It was an emergency."

Taako, dangling loosely over Magnus' shoulder, was patting out something resembling a rhythm on Magnus' butt. At least he was chill. For now.

"This is not gonna look good on the field report," he said.

"At least he's calmed down," said Merle. "It worked."

"Sure. Yeah. It worked. And now we gotta hope he comes down sometime before we do this fucking heist."

"Oh," said Merle. And, "Shit." Which seemed to about some this entire fiasco up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Which was way sooner than he might have guessed at the time.


	30. Nonny Request #110

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> fic requet Taako panties

Magnus honestly did not mean to perv. He had successfully avoided glancing at Elven anatomy for three adventures, so far. It was here in this tiny space, changing into their null suits, that his gaze drifted onto what Taako happened to call underwear.

Those were not Fantasy MeUndies. They were panties. Definitely panties. Frilly, lacy, expensive-ass panties.

Well sure, he knew Taako was gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide, but still...  _panties_  were a little bit of a shock, all things considered.

“Checking me out, there, lugnuts?” Taako teased.

Magnus went redder than his null suit. Nevertheless, he fought to maintain some kind of composure. “Aw come on. Y’all’ve seen me with my dick out.”

“Much to my regret. You’re furrier than the gorillas in the Fantasy Congo.” Taako, still wrestling with getting his suit open, turned around, revealing that there was a printed lipstick kiss over his crotch and -yes- little satin bows with zero purpose. “See anything you like, there?”

Magnus couldn’t help himself. “I gotta have a pair of those for the next Midsummer Fair. Complete the look from the skin out.”

Taako pretended to retch whilst Magnus helped him open up his null suit. “Puh-leez. As if I’d assault my complete aesthetic with your hairy ass.”

“You didn’t mind my hairy ass in Goldcliff.”

Merle, fighting with how to do his suit back  _up,_  said, “I thought we agreed we were never going to mention that again.”


	31. Nonny Request #111

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> [same anon from before] Well, of you ever DO feel up to it, the dire lack of content for "Bigfoot x FBI agent literally hunting Bigfoot" is starting to become physically painful, and you are my absolute favorite Taz writer I think you could do something great! But only if you want to, don't do anything that doesn't strike your muse

[AN: I can certainly try]

Every day, Barclay had a good reason to curse the name of Ned Fuckin’ Chicane. That good reason was Agent “up your ass” Stern. Hanging out at the lodge, investigating things. Asking questions. Being underfoot.

“What does everyone  _do_  around here?”

(Try to pretend to have everyday lives.)

“What’s with the menu? Is it normal to have this much variety?”

(So many Sylphs had special diets, it was easier just to have those options available.)

“Man, I love those springs. I feel so energised whenever I’ve used them. What’s the secret?”

(Barclay made up some bullshit about trace minerals.)

So, in desperation, Barclay was taking Agent Stern around Kepler for a sightseeing spree. The active waterparks, the inactive ones where some of the kids went to skate. The local all-in-one takeout place. The general store. The stores that weren’t so general and were -generally- a place for the local hobbyists to keep their completed works.

And, of course, the Cryptonomica.

Barclay knew damn well that the “unedited footage” in the Cryptonomica - available for a fee - was heavily edited to remove any footage that could be plausibly used forensically. Kirby had added digital ‘snow’ to the cuts so that they looked like something hit the camera and caused a flaw.

Stern watched it four times.

Barclay couldn’t stand to watch it once. He hated being photographed even with his Seeming on. Being caught as Bigfoot, even with Ned’s shaky photography, was worse than excruciatingly embarrassing. Worse, there was only so much time he could spend staring at all of Chicane’s fake bullshit exhibits.

Stern finally emerged. “Amazing. Amazing. That has to be the best footage I’ve ever seen.”

Barclay kept his voice low. “You know it’s all fake, right?”

Stern frowned. “I know most Bigfoot films are faked,” he allowed. “This is the most realistic footage I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, costumes are amazing, these days. Ned’s quite the artist. Look at this,” he pointed to the mummified remnants of some mythical creature in a case. There were no other rubes around, but he still kept his voice to a whisper. “Looks real, right?”

“It is impressive...”

“Chicken bones, A little plaster. A lot of toilet paper, and some latex. Paint and low light does the rest. I can show you how to make ‘em.” It was a good thing he knew, too. He could make a very convincing copy.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can even show you how he turned a cheap-ass Star Wars costume into that realistic-looking Sasquatch you were just drooling over.”

That was a beginning of something interesting. Something... Barclay might have regretted if he’d had the foresight to see it.

Barclay had a little workshop in an out-of-the-way space off the beaten path of Kepler proper. In it, he had all sorts of things that the old team had used to use for disguises and suchlike. He had absorbed most of the skills by osmosis and, in a pinch, could claim that it had been a few years since he’d applied those skills.

He never anticipated Stern having fun with it.

There were two projects, to begin with. The Sasquatch from Wookie, and the Mummified Thing. They were weeks at it. Adding convincing fur to the wookie costume, retooling the feet and adding extra internal structure to add height.

The Mummified Thing involved gathering or making interesting bones, and destroying any joints that might give the game away. Building up the layers of fake anatomy had them pressing their heads together over the fine details and finding things to laugh about.

He never expected to bond with the man. He certainly hadn’t expected to fall, ever so slowly, in love.

Every day, Barclay had good reason to bless the name of Ned Fuckin’ Chicane...


	32. Reader Request #115

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Can we see little Mags learning to paint his nails? The twins and Ming can do a spa day with him

Koko met the newest addition to the apartment as he was descending the stairs. The little kid was wide eyes under a mop of dark brown hair. “Wooooowww... How’d you get your nails to do that?”

What was not to love about a little kid who introduced himself like that? Koko was ten, this kid was seven. He was way so much more mature than this kid. “It’s nail polish, kiddo. You like?”

“Yeah! They’re so pretty. Can you do that to anyone? Can you do that to me?”

How could he possibly refuse that enthusiasm. “Sure thing, holmes. What colour do you like?”

“There’s more than  _one?”_  The little dude was gobsmacked. “How many can I have?”

“Sweetie, you can have the whole rainbow and then some,” he patted Lulu on the shoulder. “You go on and get the stuff. I got me a manicure appointment.”

“I’ll make sure to forget the garlic,” sniped Lulu.

Koko couldn’t flick her a rude gesture, not with a baby present. Therefore, he sang down, “I’ll just leave the chilli sauce out when I cook...”

That argument dismissed, Koko lead the kid up to his flat. “So you’re with the Burnsides’, right? Mag... Maggie...”

“Magnus,” said Magnus. “I’m seven.”

Cute. Koko got into his own supply of polish and set up on the stairs so the kids’ folks could find him. The last thing he needed was Mom getting into trouble because Koko was futzing about with glamour.

Magnus opted for the entire rainbow, followed by silver, rainbow confetti, and holographic shimmer for the last three of his ten. It all took a while and Magnus was over the moon about it. Johaan Burnsides found them just as Koko was finishing up Magnus’ final pinkie.

“Oh, so here’s where you went.”

“Hey, Mr Burnsides. Your kid liked my nails, so...”

Magnus held up his hands. “I’m a rainbow!”

“Oh, that’s adorable. You wanna maybe show me how to do all that?” Johaan asked. “I get the feeling we’re gonna be doing this a lot.”

Koko smiled. “Well, I’m gonna need to replace the supplies, so... you know... a little pocket money wouldn’t hurt...”

“Twenty bucks and I throw in a gig for your mom’s birthday.”

“Sold!”

Mom found him, hours later, giving careful instructions to the Burnsides, including hints and tips, about how to do nails. Magnus studiously colouring Avi’s nails NWPD Blue, whilst Koko was doing a more complicated finish for Johaan’s digits.

“Prettying up the world?” she said.

“One finger at a time, mom.” Koko had to grin. “What can I say? I’m a genius.”


	33. Reader Request #116

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Can we get LD Sno interrogating Krav. She’s not gonna let another Sazed happen. :P

“I think we can say the small heater is a winner,” said Koko’s new boy, Kravitz. He was apparently Human, but his species didn’t matter any more since The Big Spell. “The little skulls on my nails look amazing.”

Sno knew differently. Kravitz wasn’t Human. Not any more. Kravitz was an undead soldier for the Raven Queen, who used to be out after Koko’s ass. Which was why she was waiting in the stairwell, just out of Koko’s view. Definitely out of Kravitz’s, since he only had eyes for her adopted baby brother.

“Yeah, I can totes feel the difference,” said Koko. He must have been holding Kravtiz’s hand. “Do you really have to work? There’s this new pasta place that opened up a few blocks down. They serve wine to anyone over thirty...”

A small laugh, “Well, I do like wine,” he allowed. “I’ll take a rain check on the pasta place. Call you when I’m safe?”

“I’d love for you to do that,” cooed Koko.

They spent a few more minutes on pointless smalltalk. Obviously smitten. Then Kravitz finally started descending the stairs.

Sno pounced, blocking off his physical egress, even though she’d seen him tear portals in reality in order to get to the Astral Plane. “Kravitz,” she said. “A word?”

“I... kind of have an appointment,” he hedged.

“You put it off to make goo-goo eyes at Koko, you can put it off to answer one question.”

“Fair,” he said. “One question. Then I have to go.”

“What are your intentions with my baby brother?”

His face was an open book with large print and it said,  _Oh shit, it’s the Shovel Talk..._  and his dark face went slightly darker around the cheeks. “Um,” he said. “I know, we didn’t get off to the best start, but... there’s... there’s something extraordinary about Koko. I want... I want to make sure he’s okay. I want to see him happy. I want to make sure he’s got the good life if he deserves. I want... I want the best of everything for him.”

Yeah, he had it bad. It’d likely be more than a few years before he admitted it, though. “Even if that doesn’t include you?”

Sigh. “Yeah. Even if that doesn’t include me.” He touched his eye. stared in confusion at the wetness he found there. “Koko can tell me to fuck off any time he likes, but... he keeps asking me back.”

“He likes you. The last dude he liked... wasn’t nice.” A succinct and completely inaccurate summary of Sazed “that pedophilic bastard” Baker.

“I heard,” said Kravitz. “Nobody deserves someone like that happening to them. If I could, I’d... I’d join the queue.”

Sno stepped aside, letting Kravitz pass. “I know I can’t kill you, but if you hurt Koko, I’ll fucking die trying.”

“Ma’am? I’d rather kill  _myself_  than hurt Koko.”

Okay. That was a grudging pass.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 2]

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]


	34. Nonny Request #112

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see Avi throw Sno’s bachelorette party?

There are many names for it. The paddy wagon, the come-along cart, the chunderbox... Whatever it’s named, it’s usually used to haul masses prisoners to incarceration, and its use is mandatory in City Watch pre-nuptual parties. Stag night, hen night, bachelor parties, spinster parties... they have many names too.

Sno expected the SWAT gear, and the wagon, and the blindfold. She did not expect to emerge in a sort of picnic area and what looked like giant, colourful blocks. They suited her up in some armour and safety goggles. Half the precinct’s officers were wearing blue armbands. The other half were wearing red. She had a red armband.

Avi had a red one, too. It was the lower ranks against the higher brass. Including their captain.

Then he handed her a paintball gun and they all filed onto the range with the colourful blocks.

“You’re telling me that we’re to  _shoot at_  our commanding officer?” she said, seemingly appalled. “Avi, I couldn’t possibly - SNEAK ATTACK!”  _Pow, pow pow!_

The games were on. They were really more fun than they should have been.

The only worrying part was the gigantic cake lurking incongruously near the range. In plain view like the Eiffel Tower was in plain view in Paris. Avi had to have something planned, but she knew it wouldn’t happen until they had all finished shelling the living piss out of the senior brass.

It was more fun than should have been legal, and the Chief was all colours of the rainbow when they all staggered off the range to crack some cold ones.

Sno wasn’t far behind the rainbow parade, having got as good as she gave, but now that the safety goggles were off, her eyes kept drifting back towards the gigantic, fake cake.

Following that, and a wash and a change of clothes, it was back in the wagon for another blindfolded trip to somewhere far more intimate, with friends and family. Or so Avi said.

“I know you have something planned with that cake, Burnsides,” she managed, losing track of the turns they took. “It didn’t pop off at the range... what’s going on?”

Avi, annoyingly, said, “Spoilers.”

Sno stewed on that for all of five minutes before she said, “This is about the stunt I pulled for yours, isn’t it?”

“Spoilers...” This time, there was a breathy giggle underneath the noise of the engines.

The door opened to Koko in white tie and tails, “M’lady, this way to the extravaganza...” He offered his elbow and handed her down out of the wagon as if he were handing royalty out of their armoured car. He was the very image of picture perfect grace and style.

The facade of the place he was leading her into had a palatial feel, and there were other friends and family playing the roles of entourage for this part of her journey. Lulu became her personal assistant, and Sno was sure she spotted her Mom as one of the makeover assistants, but it was hard to tell because they kept blinding her with cucumber slices.

On one hand, the spa and makeover sesh was exactly what she needed to unwind after the looming cake on the range. On the other hand, she still had no idea what the hell Burnsides was up to.

They dressed her up in the frilliest, fanciest, faberge meringue of a Princess Dress, replete with enough bling to sink a barge. Gave her a few lessons on how to behave like a Princess, including how to walk in unfamiliar heels. Then they turned her into the Grand Banquet Hall for the “Suitor’s Ball.”

There were definitely a few Fantasy Chippendales in the mix. Orc, Dragonborn, Humanman, Elf, Tiefling... even an Aarakocra. All civil as hell when she danced to the orchestra’s tune. Yet, lurking in a corner off to the side of the buffet... there was that damned fake cake again. Sticking out like a baboon’s buttocks. Taunting her.

She almost didn’t notice Mukaara taking her hand.

“It’s not a proper Princess Experience without your Prince, right?” he said.

Well. At least he was going to share in the mortification when the inevitable happened. “You are my best nerd,” she whispered. “Where’s Mom and her -uh- ‘work friends’?”

“Being paparazzi?”

Utter confusion. “What?  _All_  of them?”

“Yahuh.”

Suspicion. “Where’s Burnsides?”

“Dancing with his grandkid on his feet. Why?”

“See the cake on your ten?”

Mukaara looked. “Oh shit. This is about the thing with the nuns, right?”

“Yeah. I thought he’d forgiven me, but... yeah.”

It was a mostly enjoyable night, if it wasn’t for that  _fucking_  cake, it would have been perfect. The glitter, the glamour, the chance to be as girly as she liked without judgement... Sno loved it.

She just couldn’t forget about the cake, though.

Burnsides, when she could catch a glance at him - or a murder glare at him - was loving every inch of the evening.

All good things still came to an end, with Magnus dragging Mukaara off for an overdue bucks’ night, and Sno catching a pumpkin-shaped carriage all the way back to her flat with an evilly-smirking partner in the other seat.

“Okay, Burnsides. What the fuck?”

“Revenge,” he said. “I had you dreading that cake all night, didn’t I?”

“Who was in there?”

“Nobody. It’s empty. A dummy. A blank.”

“YOU GOT ME ANXIOUS OVER A FUCKING BLANK CAKE?”

He laughed. “Revenge served cold, Nono-dear.”

“You know I’m gonna owe you big time for that.”

“True, but you can’t fault the artistry of it.”

She had to admit. He had her on that one. “This wedding better go off without a snag. And without a certain cake.”

“Aw, but Barry was gonna jump out of it for the Reception...”


	35. Nonny Request #113

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Set forth a Lucas redemption arc in LD? Tear him down now and build him back up

The greatest news of Lucas’ life was that they were making a movie based on  _Fires in Elfington._  The worst news, when it arrived three months later, was that they were making it all  _live action._

There were several reasons not to do things like that. For a start, the casting was generally  _off_  from the animated originals, in more than merely possessing internal organs and working musculature. In this case, the producers chose an actress to play Syn’amon who was… decidedly more curvaceous than the ectomorphic animated model  _and_  her real-life counterpart - Officer Snocoun Ton of the Neverwinter Police Department.

Worse - they whitewashed as much as they could about literally everyone in the entire cast. Everyone was, where possible, as pale as possible. They cast a pale green, buxom Sea Elf as Syn’amon instead of getting a Beach Elf, and there  _were_  people who could tell the difference. They lightened up the Mischief Twins’ skin tones to paper-bag brown, and generally miscast the entire thing.

Lucas was in a foul mood by the time he got to the premier. Therefore, seeing a buxom Sea Elf parading around in a sexier version of Syn’amon’s default outfit was like a red flag to a bull. He was an important person in the STEM fields, damnit. He came here as a representative of the  _Fires_  fandom. He shouldn’t have to put up with this kind of misrepresentation.

“Hey, do you know who wrote the original episodes of  _Fires in Elfington,_  and what inspired them to do it?” he said.

The Sea Elf in costume was busy doing T&A poses for the flickering cameras.

“Do you know how many episodes that outfit featured in and why they were worn?” he demanded.

Still not a thing. The woman wrapped her arm around him and feigned a swoon.

“How about how many episodes were commissioned for the third extended season?” he snapped. “Do you know anything about  _Fires in Elfington_  like at all?”

Someone in Mue Sakka costume came out of the crowd. It was scary accurate and faithful to the anime. “Shiringami Tatonaka, a news story about Officer Snocoun Ton rescuing the young lady who’s now her daughter; thirty-seven in the original run and two hundred in the extended series; and twenty-five. Are you done geek checking my spouse now?”

The woman in costume said, “Dude, this is just my day job, okay? I didn’t need to pass a test to wear an outfit. Gods…” she let him go and posed with her wife. She shouted so the crowd could hear her. “This lovely woman made my outfit from scratch, using the fifty seconds of clear footage available in the first teaser. Isn’t she amazing? Take a bow, babe.”

Lucas raged. “That outfit isn’t at all true to the original anime! It’s an affront to the fandom! Productions like that and outfits like this should be banned from all gatherings! It isn’t fair to Tatonaka-san!”

The wife, a mousy brunette, wheeled on him. “It’s people like you who are an affront to fandom! Do you know how long it takes to draft a pattern from fifty seconds of footage? The number of times I had to go back and forth on the freeze-frames to take detailed notes? The best guesses I had to take? How about how long it takes to source material that looks and acts like the finished costume,  _before it’s sewn?_  How about how many stitches does it take to fake the veins and structure inside a skeleton leaf? Do you know what kind of wadding gives the right flexibility and resilience whilst also not developing a wrinkle memory? Do you know any of  _that,_  mister smarty-pants?”

A couple done up as the Mischief Twins were capering about in the background, barely visible in his peripheral vision. He didn’t care about them. He cared about his rights as the keeper of trivia. “I bet you don’t even know how many frames were involved in the famous science scene.”

“Foreground, background, or by plane?” challenged the wife. “Even if I told you, you’d claim I memorised it to impress you. News flash, assmunch, I’m actually  _KnowHaver98_  on your precious forum. I  _curate_  your precious trivia archives. And finally, nobody actually wants  _your_  attention, you greasy unwashed nerd.”

The woman playing Syn’amon pointed up, showing him that the Mischief Twins had created a gigantic, illusory sign above his head. It said,  _World’s Most Obnoxious Jackass,_  in bright, pink letters.

Lucas stormed away from that scene, retreating to the relative safety of the local Whinging Fanboy Corner, where a pocket echo chamber soothed his frazzled ego.

“Who does she think she is, parading around in that thing like a slut,” he grumbled.

“Uh. Sno’s mom?” said one of the crew.

Wait. What?

“You didn’t know that?” said a lieutenant.  _“You_  didn’t know that?”

“Man. I thought you knew  _everything_  about  _Fires in Elfington…”_

“What a traitor.”

Wow. That had to be rock bottom. Kicked out of his own group of loyal detail addicts. He staggered away from that scene, ordered a stiff drink, and took solace in the numbing effects of alcohol.

The glowing sign dissolved, eventually, and Lucas slunk into his appointed seat, prepared for the worst.

He got… something remarkably good. All the nasty rumours about the movie were just that. Big ol’ sacks of foul-smelling air. He found himself actually enjoying it, since the studio really did hire the best actors for the roles.

* * *

 

The fans still on his side by the time his take-down finished going viral were actually impressed with his rationality in his critique. There were less of them by the time he posted an introspective blog entry entitled,  _Are there any true fans?_  His answer was a lengthy diatribe on how it depended on how you counted it.

Lucas stayed very quiet in the fandom. He’d been deposed by the echo chamber crew, and watched with distant eyes as that particular aspect of the fandom imploded from its own toxicity. Meanwhile, people were loving the movies, live action regardless. They were finding out all the cool things that roped him into the fandom and -he had to admit- several hundred Syn’amon/Original Male Character fanfics.

When he came crawling back to Firefaire, he did so in a staid ancient Humanman outfit he’d made himself. From scratch. He’d taught himself after he realised that Makarune Ton was a very impressive seamstress. Her tutorials were right on the button, too.

That was where he met… her.

She was more or less an average nerd. Pasty, slightly doughy, and seeming unfit. She did, however, have a pretty darn accurate costume for Peppakorn, a background Elf who maybe had three total minutes of screen time in any version of  _Fires in Elfington._  He politely asked for a photo and she surprised the pants off him by popping an accurate -and uncomfortable- pose.

They talked shop about costume creation and fanfic for seeming hours. Losing track of time, space, and any other relative dimensions. For the first time in his life, he made a friend of the female persuasion.

Her name was Aurie Kenisson, and she taught yoga for a living. She’d loved the show from the instant Tatonaka-san had blogged about the possibility and she had dived straight into Elven history to find out if it was plausible.

There were a few historical figures who could have been the real-life Syn’amon, but it was more likely that this was a result of synchronicity than any actual research. Many of the records were indistinct about who did what where and when. It was Elven. All descriptors were verbs, so it was hard to translate into Common.

Lucas was impressed as hell that she’d learned Elven just to verify her research. She was dedicated. He had to admire that.

It took him quite a while to realise he had fallen in love. Ten, twenty years ago? He’d have dismissed her, ignored her, and gone drooling over a body pillow artwork with impossible anatomy.

Things change. People change.

Lucas was glad that he was changing, too.


	36. Nonny Request #114

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> For your TAZ things can we get more baby Lucretia? She’s so cute

Lucretia Clark wouldn’t talk. Sno could understand why. She had spent so long avoiding questions by being silent that it became her way of being. The problem was, she was age three, going on four, and language skills were a concern. In brief, it was get her to talk, or have Child Services  _make_  her talk.

That was not a thing she wanted happening to a small and already traumatised child. Therefore, she was using everything she could find to try and help Lucretia talk.

This was one such desperate measure. Lucretia liked watching  _Fascinating Planet_  and the host of the show was exhibiting some of the more socialised exotic animals to adults and kids for an entrance fee. Every child would be allowed to touch and handle these animals, and the host would talk. It was an intense experience.

Lucretia recognised the host in an instant and pointed. “Davenport,” she said.

It was the most syllables she’d said at one time. “Yes,” said Sno. “That’s Mr Dru Davenport. He hosts  _Fascinating Planet._  We watch him every other Saturn-day.”

Lucretia, amazingly, started humming the theme tune. She was coming out of her shell already. It was a treat to see her happy.

The worrying part was that all the other kids coming to this thing were twelve and up. Some were almost adults. Lucretia noticed too, and clung tighter to Sno’s hand.

“You want an up-hug?” Sno offered.

Nod. Lucretia had gone quiet again.

Sno lifted her up and wrapped her in her arms, purring softly and soothingly. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. “I arranged things with the organisers. They know about us. They know about you. There’s no need to worry... You’ll see.”

Lucretia had her communications cards, and found the one that said,  _Rejection._

“They won’t throw us out. You’ll see.”

The queue let them shuffle forward and there, standing on the ticket desk, was the man himself.

“Davenport,” Lucretia whispered.

The world-famous Gnome had a rainbow parrot on a leash, which seemed interested in either climbing on top of Davenport’s head, or sidling along an arm. The bird had apparently learned a few choice phrases, one of which was, “Potty poo!” That one amused all the kids. Even Lucretia had a smile.

Davenport noticed them, and gestured to some of the staff. There was a Tiefling who gave them VIP lanyards and instructions to wait after the show. This was news to Sno.

“Pretty bird,” said Lucretia.

Davenport introduced the bird as Vina, and told all about how she was bred in captivity to help save her entire species. As well as, “Potty poo!” Vina could say, “Awesome,” and, “Wanna seed.” She was still a baby. Others of her kind could carry on prompted conversations.

Vina’s best trick was staying still and letting so many kids - including Lucretia - touch her vibrant feathers.

The show itself was amazing. Groups of twenty learned about animals they hadn’t known existed before, either from Davenport or some of the creatures’ handlers. They even had a swamp dragon named Errol who could follow a few commands for a nugget of sulphur.

Lucretia did  _not_  want to touch the little python, no matter how safe everyone said it was. She shrank away from it when Sno had it in her hands, so she handed it back and let the other kids have a go. The followup, including more hugs and purring, was a small monkey in a diaper who liked to braid long hair.

That one was a crowd favourite, and Davenport continued his lecture with a monkey giving him a plait.

It seemed like mere minutes, but the show was over and Sno waited with Lucretia for the others to file out.

Davenport was left alone with them. No animals to talk about. No rehearsed tricks to prompt. He sat where Lucretia could see him and said, “Hi, Lu-lu-lucretia. I know it’s a li-little strange to to to to hear me talk like this but... well... I used to ha-have trouble ta-talking too, I still do, some-sometimes.”

Lucretia voluntarily left Sno’s arms, and put her hand in Davenport’s outstretched one. “I don’t like to talk,” she said, barely above a whisper. “People wanna know everything. When I don’t talk, they stop asking.”

Sno knew better than to jump around cheering, despite the breakthrough moment. This was absolute proof that Lucretia’s language centers were just  _fine,_  thank you. As it was, she held as still as a stone and barely breathed.

“When I g-got your letter, I did some homework,” said Davenport. “It was-wasn’t ni-ni-nice, what happened. I can un-understand why you were sca-sca-scared of- of- of answering questions. You- you- you know the- the dangerous part is over, bu-but you just can’t... you can’t let g-go of the ha-ha-habit.”

She nodded.

“I have a sta-stammer. It kept me quiet for- for a long time,” he breathed a laugh. “They-they-they used to call me the-the Wordless One in school. And one day... Some-something incredible ha-happened.”

Lucretia was entranced. “What happened?”

“A re-representative from- from the local zoo came by with a- with a Pangolin. They- they were there to- to- to teach the kids about pres-preservation efforts and why zoos were- were important. They didn’t get to- to talk that day. They just asked one- one question. ‘Does anyone know what this is’.“

“You knew,” said Lucretia, eyes twinkling.

“I infodumped. The-the amazing thing? When I’m ta-talking about animals, I don’t- I don’t stammer. It’s like... I’m home. Safer than home. When I- when I have an animal nearby I-- It’s like someone hit a swi-switch.”

Lucretia nodded. She could see the difference in Davenport with animals and Davenport without. “I don’t have a switch.”

“Lots of people do-don’t,” he agreed. “Lots of people ha-have to- have to find the-their own way. There- there’s no map, there’s no guy-guide, no- no- no compass. You, Mi-miss Lucretia... are your- your- your own trailblazer. I be- believe you can find a way out of- out of your habit.”

Lucretia said, “I’ll try,” and, “Thank you, sir.”

Two weeks later, and her school was complaining that she wouldn’t  _stop_  talking.


	37. Reader Request #117

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Can we see Merle partying with Ming and Ransie?

The thing about being a Dwarf with 1999 party points is that one quickly becomes The Guy for party consultations. However, if invited himself, the party quickly goes to Off The Hook without warning. For everyone’s safety, it was better that he helped plan the parties, or procure the party supplies, but never actually attend a party.

The Neverwinter PD let him hold an epic rager every New Years’, SWAT on hand to hose everyone down if things got too heavy, but even that could begin to pall after a while. Every now and again, Merle wanted to be  _in_  the party, not just helping to create it.

Which was why he was glad he knew La’ming Ton. As The Guy for party shit, he knew where to get hold of a giant fake cake and a lady willing to jump out of it at the drop of a hat. If it wasn’t La’ming, it was one of her coworkers in the Neverwinter Blue Movie scene. Those kids knew how to party. But it wasn’t just that that warmed his cold and shrivelled heart.

It was the fact that Ransei Somner, one of the aforementioned coworkers, was reaching a milestone and wanted a party. She and La’ming wanted Merle  _at_  the party.

“The whole studio’s going to be there,” said Ransei. “So we want something a little bit over the top.”

“You want  _me_  to jump out of a cake?” Merle joked. “You gotta admit, it has novelty value, there.”

The girls laughed. “Yeah, nah. Nobody jumping out of a cake. We’d rather eat one, y’know.”

“None of the  _hard_  drugs,” said La’ming. “I have a P&T the next evening.”

“Oof. Okay. Shit that’ll have you back to normal by noon at the latest. No lingering tells by three PM? Yeah, I know some stuff. Help us all get the party on without being too down the next day.”

“Of course it wouldn’t be a party without you there, Merle,” said Ransei. “You’re practically one of the family.”

“You got all the permits lined up?”

“Fire brigade, ambulance, riot control, and police,” said La’ming. “Of course I told my daughter you were bummed out and she helped with all the red tape. And I mean  _all_  the red tape.”

“You’re like a class five hazard or something, dude.”

“Eh, it’s a curse.” Merle shrugged. “You’re really doing this? For me?”

“Of course. We love you.”

* * *

 

It made the news, of course it did. News like a porn star rager, held in a building slated for demolition, and having  _that_  Merle Highchurch as a guest, gets around. There were definitely a few people there who came just to say they had been there, that they were in the room where it happened.

Things went off the hook when some asshole put on  _Cuban Pete_  and Merle lost all of his sense of restrained. The party, he always insisted, had to come out somewhere. This... just accelerated the process.

A hundred partiers were swept up in his aura. A hundred more caught it like a virus. After that, things were a little blurry and someone woke up naked in the park with a duck in one arm and a traffic cone in the other.

All things considered, they were lucky to get out of it with no property damage.

La’ming Ton only regretted the killer headache the next day, and the fact that she had to turn up to the P&T with a giant ice pack on hand.

If there was one bright point to the day after the night before, it was that Lulu and Koko’s teachers  _also_  had comically large ice packs on hand and a wary way of watching her and wondering if she knew what they did last night.


	38. Reader Request #118

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Dandelion Prompt

Taako had what one might call a happy ending. He had a home, he had a husband who could make him blush on the regular. He had an apprentice. He had his  _sister_  back, which was one hundred percent bonus… He had a school, he had fame, he had it all.

Unfortunately, he also had Susan, busybody neighbour and president of the local homeowner’s association. She was on him about everything. Not forming an Elven gang, conforming to gender norms, not dressing like that, perfectly legal additions to his home, the cats, the boy, the friends, the family…

The last straw was the plants.

“This is a gated community,” said Susan. “We have standards we like to maintain, and one of those standards is a perfect lawn.”

“That’s why I’m converting it all to garden beds,” said Taako. “Lawns are wasteful, and garden beds are perfectly allowable according to the terms of accomodation.” He, too, had absorbed chapter and verse. One had to be a pedantic little rules lawyer to get anything approved by the homeowner’s association. Susan was always the outstanding ‘nay’.

Susan didn’t like many things, but she hated weeds more than anything else. Even beyond Ango stimming from time to time. She was still salty about the hundreds of rows of raised gardens that Taako was creating, and especially the strimmer usage on the dot of eight in the morning. Which always seemed to happen after Susan had had a wine and cake night with her cohort of anti-vax soccer moms.

“Yes. Well. I have noticed a few little invaders in your garden. You are aware, aren’t you, that dandelions are an unsightly weed?”

“I’m growing them on purpose, sweetie. They’re for my anxiety.”

Susan sneered and pursed her lips so hard that her face resembles a pickled cat’s ass. “It is not an approved plant,” she insisted.

“Medicinal herbs may be grown, so long as they’re grown in elevated garden beds,” quoted Taako. “I planted them in rows as prescribed, and I think they’re coming along nicely.” He pointed off towards a particular garden bed where happy little dandelions were growing in neat little rows. “Do you want to see my hemp crops? They’re the most luxurious plants in the county, I’m told. Must be all the horseshit I’m getting out of your mouth.”

Susan did her Offended Gasp. “How  _dare_  you! I’m the president of the Homeowner’s Association! I can have you evicted!”

Taako’s smile grew wider. “Not during an election year.” He waved his wand and the garage opened up to reveal Angus McDonald and half the neighbourhood kids running the  _Taako For Homeowner Association President_  office. The slogan was, “A kinder, friendlier neighbourhood.”

“Haven’t been campaigning much, this year,” said Taako. “Too busy regulating lawn depths to make sure folk’ll vote for you. You’re gonna have to hustle if you want to beat the influence of my Diet Buster Brownies that I offered to everyone in the community, last week.” He conjured one on a little paper doily for her. “Want to try one?”

“Those,” she said, “are loaded with  _gluten.”_

“You and I both know none of your family have celiacs, you’re just avoiding gluten ‘cause it’s trendy. Meanwhile, you little homeopathic cake shop down the road couldn’t get an order right if it would save their souls. You nearly poisoned my boy and I five times. We had to learn Purify Food and Drink, over here.”

Susan was reduced to sputtering incoherence.

“Also, if you don’t like a lawn full of fairy pom-poms, then fuck you.”

Taako cut her dead and got back to the garage, where he was manufacturing T-shirts for his campaign.


	39. Reader Request #119

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MayaKnightStar on Chapter 37 of Tumbl'd3: Forever TAZ: 
> 
> So Merle and Ming are a couple? That’s cute. Merle doesn’t get enough love. Can we see them on a date?

"I don't get it," said Merle. "People ship us. Why?"

"We get along so well, they think we could be in love." La'ming Ton shrugged. "So if you weren't into this 'date'," she used air quotes, "why'd you agree to come?"

"Our shippers are paying for it all. How about you?"

She blushed a little, "Same, actually. The jobs and the youtube videos pay for a lot of stuff, but... only if I stay at home and never go anywhere and barely enjoy myself, you know? It's nice to get away and go somewhere fancy and enjoy something."

He cackled and nodded. "Yeah, I get that. When my kids were little niblets, the money went nowhere and neither do we. Income and inlaws. All the fights are about that. "

"You can't pick family," sighed La'ming, thinking of a few choice examples.

"Horseshit. You picked those kids right outta the dumpster and made 'em yours."

"They needed someone and I volunteered. It's different."

Merle gnawed on a breadstick. "So... who's making sure they don't burn the place down while you're gone?"

"Lulu isn't _that_ incendiary," La'ming made mock of punching him. "Our downstairs neighbour's having a sleepover with the twins. She's trying to get them into fashion creation, they're trying to get her into gourmet meal creation. It's a match made in hobby hell."

"What's her name, then?"

"Mak'arune." Whoops. She hadn't meant to sound that rhapsodic. She was just a neighbour. There wouldn't ever be anything special between them. She had, after all, met the kids and half the usual cast of the Neverwinter Blue Movie scene. This included Merle, go-to Background Dwarf.

"Oh, ho," he said in that knowing way. "Kind'a neighbour you maybe wanna go out and do things with?"

"We have movie nights and game nights," said La'ming. "It's... It's nice to have nights in."

Now the knowing grin widened. Their first course arrived, which both parties peppered with thanks. They had to wait until the waiters were gone. "Comfy nights in, snuggling on the couch, is it?"

"Family purr pile. Mak'arune and I kind'a kibbitz the movies a little bit. Not enough to annoy the babies."

"And sometimes, you braid each other's hair..."

La'ming, veteran of one unplanned pregnancy, current mother of two, and co-star of several Blue moves, blushed intensely. "We're not into each other like that..."

"Yet," said Merle. "I can see it in your eyes. You like her."

"Yeah, but... we're neighbours. She's... kind'a sheltered and innocent. I can't... I'd fuck up her life."

Merle just weighed her up with his eyes. "And?"

"And she's got her life sorted out and she doesn't need my level of disaster up in there."

"Sounds like you like her a lot."

The first course done, the second arrived. Small little servings, it was almost a shame to wreck the artistry of it. "She's amazing. Like. Mak'arune's a half Elf, and she dealt with the junk from both sides, and she's still cheerful and optimistic and determined to make the world prettier. She has this cute little dimple when she smiles and her eyes... gods, her eyes. I could fall into those eyes. But... she's better off finding someone better than me."

"Hmmm," said Merle. "You sure about that?"

A deep breath. "Yeah."

"These movie nights... you invite her?"

"No... she asks about them. Of course I have to tell her the truth, she's so trusting. I couldn't wreck that. It'd be... sinful, I guess."

"The game nights?"

"She invites us."

This earned another 'Hmmm' from Merle. "Sounds to me like she might like you. Maybe she doesn't want to say anything 'cause it might ruin what'cha got."

"Nothing could ruin that," said La'ming, just a little too quickly. Her brain caught up with her mouth. "See? That's why you're our dad and not our DILF."

"That, and the sciatica," said Merle. "How many of these petite servings are we supposed to be getting?"

La'ming said, "They can keep 'em coming until they throw us out. This stuff is impressive, and I've been letting the twins feed me."

"Fair enough. Just make sure to smooch your -ah- BFF from the flat downstairs. As a 'thank you'."


	40. Reader Request #120

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Found this while looking through old Convos: Later Mags proposes he and Mukaara form the secret society so they can be in on all the secrets. You gotta make it happen.

Magnus was old enough to go out on his own, having absorbed the road rules and following them implicitly, all the way to his destination. Usually, his dads let him go to the Bodega, or to the school, but this was a special occasion.

He was walking two blocks to where Mr Mukaara lived. The whole mess with processed sugar in mind, Magnus had come up with a plan. He’d written it down and everything.

He found the apartment block, and found the buzzer to ring. Then it was a wait on tenterhooks to see if Mr Mukaara was going to let him in. The front door unlocked, and Magnus zoomed up the stairs to Mr Mukaara’s flat.

The Dark Elf greeted him with, “Hey, squirt. You all good?”

“My dads said I don’t haveta keep apologising for the thing, but I am sorry and I thought of a way to fix it.” He waved the notebook. “We make the secret society.”

“Okay, what’s so cool about a secret society?”

“Not  _a_  secret society,  _the_  secret society. We share all the secrets so nobody makes any mistakes ever again.” Magnus flipped some pages, proudly displaying a reasonable copy of the ‘no young Elves’ warning label and Magnus’ writing nearby,  _Shuger makes Elf branes go funy._

“And I help with the spelling?” Mukaara suggested.

“You help with the secrets,” Magnus insisted. “Like... everyone says that young Elves shouldn’t have sugar, but they never say  _why._  That’s how mistakes happen.”

“Oh. So it’s things everyone knows but nobody talks about,” Mukaara was getting it. He gestured the boy in. “Or things everyone  _thinks_  everyone knows, but mistakes happen because they  _don’t_  know.”

“Exactly,” Magnus made himself comfortable at Mukaara’s table, and showed another page. This one had a drawing of a burger with yellow dots and a picture of Mr Angus McDonald throwing up. The writing said,  _The McDonald famly is alerjick to sesame ~~str~~  seeds._ “I don’t want any mistakes hurting anyone ever again, so I figured, we get the secrets and make sure everyone knows about them.”

“Everyone important,” said Mukaara. “We probably shouldn’t tell the  _whole_  world? The McDonalds do some work that makes them enemies. We don’t want enemies knowing this stuff.”

“That’s an important secret,” said Magnus. “It’s gotta go in the book.”

Mukara found a blank page. “You draw, I’ll write.”

“Deal.”

There’s more than one way to protect the people you love. Making certain they’re all safe has many, many facets.


	41. Reader Request #121

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Saccharine - LA Sunbathing -Monty Pithon’s Harsh Whisper - LD For the thing. Hope this is what you wanted. :P

[AN: One universe at a time, pls. The combo thing means - combos of words. My bad for not saying that. Three stories for the price of one!

**1\. Saccharine - LA**

[AN: LA stands for Little Accidents. A universe in which a WAY younger La’ming and a WAY nastier Sazed manage to create half-Elf Angus. La’ming and Taako raise him and Nono in a loving -if mobile- home with La’ming pretending to be older and Taako pretending to be hetero and married to La’ming. 90% angst]

The fair was under full enough swing that Taako couldn’t  _give_  food away. Which meant that  _Sizzle it Up!_  was not doing any shows until after a majority of the other food carts had closed for the evening. On the plus side, plenty of time to spend looking around for ideas. On the minus side, he had to keep the kids entertained as well as himself.

In a fairground, that meant the potential for encountering processed sugar and, in the case of tiny little Angus, someone using cow milk instead of any of the perfectly reasonable alternatives. Taako knew he couldn’t go anywhere near a peanut, and as for the rest of their little family of four... staying away from processed sugar was just smart.

“Oh look. Miller Labs. They’re always good for a giggle. They’re doing a food science show.”

Minmin, pretending to be an adult, also pretended cheer for her babies, Nono and Ango. “Yay,” she said. “Food science.”

The kids were less than enthused. However, the bribe of some spun maple candy and a hot dog in combination with a place to sit seemed to keep them appeased. They would be appeased  _and_  sticky in less than ten minutes, Taako guessed. He kept an eye on the kids -all three of them- and watched the show.

This one was a new alchemical wonder. Sugarless sugar, called saccharine, and Miller Labs was so sure of its safety that they were allowing volunteers to come up and taste their saccharine-laced fare.

“I wanna,” piped tiny little Angus.

Taako took the baby boy into his lap. “No you don’t, son-of-mine. You’re a little young to turn into a guinea pig.”

Since he had his hands full with Angus, and Minmin was busy trying to take him back, Nono leaped up, waving a hand in the air and bouncing out of parental reach. “I want to try!”

“...gods damn it...” muttered Taako. Too late, he handed Ango back to his mother and stood, ready to field an errant Elven teen...

...who already had a cake in her mouth.

“Damnit, Nono...” he sighed. “This is not the time or place to be rebellious streaking. Fuck.”

Nono was wincing. “Too sweet,” she complained. “It’s like way, way too sweet... it’s--” no further words came out of her, but there was a torrent of regurgitated cake, dissolved maple sugar, and hotdog.

Taako wasn’t about to sabotage a fellow food show. “Aw, honey,” he said, pitching his voice to carry. “I told you three goes on the Chunderwonder was two too many.” He sampled a cupcake for himself. Eugh.  _WAY_  too sweet. “Needs more lemon curd,” he said, and then quickly got outta dodge because -damn- that stuff made  _him_  want to hurl, and he’d survived the slop they served at Saint Vingo’s.

He didn’t get as far as that, though, but did find cool relief in a green patch far away from the smells of the fair. Nono fanned him with his wizarding hat and Minmin provided the damn cloth for his brow.

“Are you okay, Daddy?” said tiny little Ango.

“I will be. Eventually,” Taako panted. “Moral of this story, try new foodstuffs with caution. They always test on Humanmen... ooogh...”

The things he did for love.

**2\. Sunbathing - Monty Pithon**

It had been a rougher winter than Varmvale, and therefore the circus that stayed there, was used to. The spring had been weak, for the first month, but now the sun was out with a vengeance and all the cold-blooded species were out, too.

Lulu and Koko, also thawing in the sunshine, found Monty, Mrs Monty, and all the Montlings spread out on a stretch of dark stone and sighing in the sunlight.

“Say, chief, aren’t we late to get on the road?” said Koko with fake enthusiasm.

“Yeah,” said Lulu, who knew that a cold-fogged Monty was a gullible Monty. “We got a circus to put on. Acts to plan. Rubes to bilk...”

“Time to quit sunbathing and start moneymaking,” said Koko, hoping that Monty hadn’t heard that last bit.

Montgomery Pithon was neither impressed nor swayed. “The roads will still be mud, the people know to expect us closer to summer, and I’m not falling for that horseshit again.”

Drat. Koko sighed and settled down on the rock. “Mind if we thaw with you?”

**3\. Harsh Whisper - Little Domestic**

There is but one truth of life on the streets - cold kills. Pass out or try to sleep away from the warmth - any kind of warmth - and you could die. Even in summer’s last hurrah before winter moved in, you could die from the cold.

Lulu had been looking for more clothes to line their little nest-box with. Koko was prone to chills at the best of times, and this coming winter wasn’t looking to be the best. They were lucky they got through the last one with all their fingers and toes intact.

They were not lucky in the fact that the City Watch was clamping down on homeless people camping out in or near the old steam tunnels. The worse news was that more and more places that used to be safe were employing hostile architecture to try and get the homeless to move away - or at least die somewhere out of sight of all the nice, orderly rent-payers in the city.

At least here, they had a shelter from the wind and a steady supply of half-eaten food via the dumpster and the neighbouring blocks of flats. Lulu was moderately sure she could figure out how to pick the lock and get into the basement before the snows came. That way, she and Koko could huddle in a corner near the furnace and stay nice and toasty during the worst of the winter.

That had been the plan, anyway.

Right up until the instant a huge garbage bag fell on Koko from above with the sound of shattering glass and the sickening thud of one baby twin brother hitting the uncaring concrete of the alleyway floor.

Lulu dropped everything -literally- and ran to her brothers side. She could roll the garbage bag off her brother. He was beat up, cut a little, but still breathing. Okay. Okay. That was fine. That was okay.

“Koko?” she managed in a harsh whisper, lest any noise alert anyone prone to narc. She shook him a little. “Koko?”

His hair was straight. His hair was never perfectly straight. There was always a kink or a curl or straight-up frizz. Lulu couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen her brother’s hair completely limp.

“Koko...” Lulu wrestled his head and half his body into her lap. “Koko.” Nothing. He was completely limp, just like his hair. And there was a wet patch of blood spreading out through those golden locks and -oh gods- “Koko, don’t die! Koko!”

Panic. Utter panic. Koko was going to die because some asshole dumped garbage on him and they were going to take them both away and she’d never know where he was buried if he even got a burial and they couldn’t take him away, they couldn’t! He was her heart! He was her whole heart and the only reason she even bothered waking up in the morning and Koko! Koko please! Wake up, Koko!  _KOKO!_

There was an adult Elf leaning over them, and that was when Lulu went from ordinary hysterical to full-blown scream-crying and fuck whatever authorities wanted to take them away. She’d scream and scream and  _scream_  until the whole world vanished. She’d scream her heart and soul away if it got her Koko back.

The Sea Elf kept murmuring and cooing and gently touching them both in an I-won’t-hurt-you-ever way. She had half a bagel that she picked little mouthfuls off of to offer Lulu and things that stopped the blood and a way of showing Lulu that her dumb baby brother was still alive, just unconscious. She had a better, cleaner place where he could recover and they could both get clean and she could cook them a nice, hot meal and wouldn’t everything be better after a hot chocolate?

There came a point in a cascade of terrible events where just about anything was a step up. If it turned out that this Sea Elf was some kind of horrible, they could bail anyway and be no worse off. In the meantime, there would be a clean place and hot food and new clothes and, once Koko was back to wakefulness, a real bath with real soap and real hot water.

All the same, Lulu refused to let go of Koko and flat-out refused to let him out of her sight. All the way up to a tiny, one-bedroom flat where Koko looked even tinier inside a grownups’ bed. All the way through patching him up and getting him clean and making sure he wasn’t in real danger. All the way through a quick mercy run to the local Bodega -don’t go anywhere! Not that Lulu had any such plans.

All the way through dinosaur chicken nuggets and bubble-and-squeak patties all cooked in the microwave with ketchup on the side.

Koko was awake. Koko was okay. That was all that mattered. Koko passed the weird-ass concussion test, which was better. Koko was also amazingly cool about letting a stranger bathe them and clothe them in identical baggy  _I (heart) NW_  tee shirts and ludicrous, one-size-fits-nobody pull-cord pants.

“You sure you’re okay, Koko?” Lulu whispered after the stranger called La’ming tucked them in for the night. “You’re not complaining about anything.”

“Bad food is better than no food,” he whispered right back. “This place is okay. It’s out of the weather and she seems to care enough to want to look after us. Worst comes to the worst, we’re outta here when it gets warm.”

Lulu wrapped herself around her brother. “That’s the dumb baby brother I know,” she cooed. “Always planning for the worst.”

“Geez, make me puke,” Koko mockingly scolded. “Then she’ll call the Fantasy CDC on our asses.”

 


	42. Reader Request #122

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> There are few things I wish for more than baby!Angus content. So baby!Angus on his first day out with Taako and Kravitz, either after being adopted or born, and just running into all of their friends because this would be the first time they saw Angus since Taako and Krav got him.

[AN: Why not both?]

**Young Angus**

Angus McDonald was seven years old, today. If there was a cake, Angus hadn’t seen where Papa had hidden it. Instead of that, he was packing a picnic basket.

It had to be dimensionally transcendent, because Papa was packing way more stuff into it than a regular basket could hold. He had that sneaky face on that meant he was plotting something.

“Good morning,” said Angus. “Do you have something special planned for today?”

“Nope,” lied Papa. He added yet another huge container to the basket.

“I thought today was a special day,” teased Angus. “I’m pretty sure something important happened today. Something... seven years ago...”

Papa pretended to think about this for three containers. “Nope. Nothin’ coming to my mind.” He added a wink. “We just need a little time outdoors. You’ve been cooped up indoors since your welcome-to-the-family party. Sunshine’ll do you great.”

Dad carried him on his shoulders, all the way to the park where the others of this huge, weird family were gathered.

Aunt Lup was the one who had the cake. She could do confectionary if she put the effort into it, Angus knew. It’s just that she preferred quicker recipes. The fact that she had done the cake meant that she thought he was worth the extra effort.

Magnus had some of his best trained dogs. The whole family had everything ready for the best seventh birthday a little boy could hope for.

**Baby Angus**

Here’s the thing about having a baby - going anywhere with one is almost a kingdom-conquering exercise. There was so much stuff involved in taking an infant anywhere that one could easily mistake it for a military event.

“Stroller, check. Diaper bag, check. Bottles, check. Formula, check. Spare clothes, check. Washers, check. Binkies, check...” Taako ran down the list. “Blankie... where the heck is the blankie?”

“I got it, Dove.” Kravitz added the blankie to the significant pile of baby accessories.

“Booties, mittens, tumby...” the essential companion toy, a chubby cloth moppet that Lucretia had made by hand, thus paving the way to Taako actually talking to her by the end of the decade. “I think that’s everything.”

“Except...” prompted Kravitz.

“Except what? We got the baby stroller, the baby bag, the baby bottles, the baby formula... what are we missing?”

“The baby?” Kravitz already had him in his arms.

Angus blinked owlishly at his Apa and said, “Blpth.”

“Of course.  _The_  most essential part of a day out with baby.” Taako welcomed both his men into his arms, spared a smooch for them both. “Okay.  _Now_  we’re all ready for our first day of shopping.”

It was an interesting day, nonetheless. Taako happened to trip over one of his family or friends on the regular. So regular that it seemed suspicious.

He finally snagged Barold about the fifth time they chanced to meet. “Spill it, Bluejeans. This ain’t no co-incidence. Confess.”

Barold turned bright red (natch) and stammered out, “Yeah, well. Uh. We know it’s your first day out with the kid anduh... we... thought we’d make sure you were all okay.”

Lup appeared out of nowhere. “Not that we were all  _that_  worried,” said Lup. “I knew you’d crush it. You’d never do anything stupid like pack everything and forget the baby.”

“Hardy har har,” deadpanned Taako.


	43. Nonny Request #115

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> What if cults worshipping the Seven Birds—necromantic or otherwise—started cropping up after the Day of Story and Song?

They took a few years to begin. Having the actual legends available in real life, in the newspapers, in the bookstores, tended to quell those of a cultish mind. Nevertheless, they began all the same.

There was the cult of Jeffandrew, which fizzled for the most part and lead a secluded life in the cracks when it did find a rare foothold. It was always covert. It was always discrete. It was always unreliable as a faith.

People could really get to Believe in the Seven Birds. They were real people. Real people with extraordinary abilities, granted, but real people all the same. The Twins wrote a series of books about their exploits: before, during, and after their hundred-year mission to strange new worlds and new civilisations.

For the most part, the Seven Birds had had enough of adventuring, and that was perfect for creating... cults.

Altars sprang up inside the first decade. Not just to the Seven Birds, but to those heavily associated with them. Those who came to The Twins prayed to be re-united with lost family members. Those who came specifically to Lup’s altars hoped to resolve a long-lasting crush. Those who came to Taako prayed for resolutions to great wrongs.

People came to The Lover to reaffirm long-held vows, to swear new ones, to ask for true and lasting love, and to beg for more time.

People asked The Protector for strength in battle, for the power to keep their loved ones safe, for help in dire straits.

Those who prayed to The Lonely Journal Keeper prayed for fortitude to endure, as Lucretia had endured. They prayed for a dissolution of writer’s block. They prayed for a third option when the initial two were abhorrent.

Nevermind that it was Taako who saw it, the people Believed, and they Believed that Lucretia was the one who gave it to the entire world.

Those who went to The Peacemaker never went there for healing, which was probably just as well. They came to ask for a means to end conflict, and some for bountiful crops... though it was better not to investigate what those crops  _were._

The ones who prayed to The Wordless One prayed for successful journeys, for clarity of mind, for clarity of speech... for success at cards. For restoration of memory. For restoration of that which was lost.

They weren’t always  _successful_  prayers. That wasn’t the point. The point was that people prayed. In prayers, in belief, there is power.

They prayed also to The Detective, to The Bard, The Wedded Warriors... they prayed to The Artificer and The Deals Warlock and The Reaper and The Inventor’s Son. Some even prayed to The Bugbear.

Time ran out for living legends, as time inevitably does. Some lived their full span of life, some more than that. Some had far less. What mattered was the prayers, the Belief.

It’s quite a shock to wake up dead. It’s even more of a shock to wake up dead and deified.

A new pantheon made of people who once were flesh and blood. Given power, given elevation. Given a place in the Celestial Plane. All through Belief. New gods and goddesses, with new powers and responsibilities... and new dumb-ass followers they had to look after.

Just like all the other gods.


	44. Nonny Request #116

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> are you still doing TAZ requests? if so would it be alright if I requested a Sick young Ango being cared for by Taako? It's been requested a lot in the past, but there's just something so sweet about it that I love. thank you for taking the time to read this!

[AN: First, I’d like to apologise for taking so dang long with this. It’s been a busy week]

Angus shivered in his bed and dreaded opening his eyes. He was cold and soaked and terrified that, if he could breathe in through his nose, he would smell someone else’s pee. It certainly felt like he was huddled in a bunch of lumps that wanted to dig holes in his skin.

He could hear jingling jewellery and someone singing. “Good morning, starshine, the earth says ‘hello’... you twinkle above...” the singer trailed off, and a too-hot hand seared into Angus’ forehead. “You’re not okay, little man.”

The shadow above him glittered and gleamed. He managed to focus on golden hair and dusky skin that was mottled like a fawn and sprinkled with gold. He wasn’t in the orphanage any more, but it sure felt like he was in an orphanage bed. “...hurts,” he croaked.

“Hmm...” said Papa, who scooped him out of bed and into a thick, fluffy dressing gown. “Looks like Summerfaire Sniffles, there, buddy. Caught something from someone durin’ the holiday.” Papa was comfortingly warm, whilst Angus felt like his entire body was a loose sack full of snot.

“...’m sorry, papa...”

“Not your fault, hon. ‘S why the schools give people a whole month off after Summerfaire. Get all the viruses outta the system before they can recirculate.”

“...’r you mad at me?”

“Naw... It’s nothing some soup won’t cure. Cream of chicken soup with ginger, garlic, and all the fixings. All your favourite ingredients.”

“...’m n’t h'ngry...”

Papa cooed and juggled him around as his Mage Hands filled a hot water bottle and wrapped it up. “We’ll find something to tempt those tastebuds later on, punkin. Anything you need, you’re getting. Just say the word.”

“...cuddl’s...”

“M’kay,” Papa curled up with him, the hot water bottle, and a lot of blankets (the cats came to nest on them later) on the big cuddle couch and turned the fantasy television on to something that required no brainpower to appreciate.

Dad looked in on them in an hour or two. “Everything all right, babe?”

“Summerfaire Sniffles,” said Papa. “Some fantasy tylenol, a lot of cuddles, and some chicken soup and we’ll be fine.”

Dad’s touch was a little chilly, but welcome all the same. “Nothing to worry about,” he said.

When he said it, you could be  _sure._


	45. Reader Request #123

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LadyVin on Chapter 28 of Young Angus Anthology:  
> What if the tables are turned? Angus wakes up on his own one morning, finding Taako sick in bed and still asleep. Angus tries to take care of him the way Taako takes care of Angus on his sick days

Something was wrong. Angus could feel it before he opened his eyes. It was even why he opened his eyes. He could sense that something fundamental had gone wrong with his universe. He put on his glasses and put it all together.

Sun at the wrong angle, he had overslept.

House too quiet, and it was never completely quiet. There was the usual creaking of living wood and the distant rustle of wind in the boughs, but that was scarily  _it._

Worst of all, nothing was cooking... and Casa de Taako  _always_ had something cooking. Angus could even tell who was cooking by the signature elements. Garlic for Papa, hot spices for Aunt Lup, Buffalo Sauce for Uncle Barry, wine for Dad... none of that was in evidence. In fact, there was a distinct absence of evidence.

Angus shuffled into his slippers and slid a robe on, first visiting the nearest bathroom and then exploring the ominously quiet house.

The cats swarmed, meeping and yowling and howling that they hadn't been fed. Overacting their piteousness to make him wont to believe that they were on the very cusp of starving to death when he knew for a fact that they had all been fed the previous evening. Angus saw to their food bowls, water dishes and (euw) litter trays before proceeding.

Papa wasn't in the kitchen. He knew before he looked, but he checked anyway. Papa wasn't in the main living room. He wasn't in his best study, nor the (BIG swear)-off-do-not-disturb-I-mean-it study. He wasn't in the suites where Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry stayed.

Angus found him in the bedroom, tangled in sheets like a fly in a spider's web, splayed out like an accident and not looking that great. His hair was still bound in his evening braids and he was wearing a pair of Fantasy Boxers with a flying spatula pattern on them. He was still breathing, though he was burning hot to the touch.

Crusty, mismatched eyes opened, though it looked like it was a struggle. "...mmmnh?"

"Papa... are you going to be okay?"

"...mmmf..." Papa made the 'I dunno' noise. After a breath or three he croaked, "...s'ry b'by..."

Angus had a rough idea of what to do. After all, Papa had done similar things for him when he was sick. "It's going to be okay, Papa. I've got this."

"...nnngk," said Papa, and his eyes closed.

Angus wet a washcloth in cool water and left it folded on Papa's brow. Then he padded back down to the kitchen, where he got out a lot of stuff.

Chicken, and fending off the cats, check. Garlic, check. Ginger, check. Vegetables, check. Soup mix, check. Pressure cooker, check. Slow cooker, check. Angus was most careful with the sharp knives, and kept the house's Stone of Farspeech nearby in case he had to call emergency services. He was slow at it all, but that was okay. Beginners always started slow, it was the safest way to start. So Papa always said. And anyway, Papa needed rest to fight off whatever bug had decided to attack him.

Half the ingredients went into the pressure pot to cook quickly, the other half went into the slow cooker to cook slow. Whilst that was all warming up, he found the stepladder and located the Fantasy Tylenol. Two of those, a big glass of iced dandelion tea - one of the best Elven painkillers according to one of Papa's books - and a bowl of the finished soup and Papa would be on the mend.

So Angus hoped.

While he was waiting for the pressure pot to get done, he pondered who he could call. He wasn't supposed to be left without care. Dad only left when he had work, so he was out. Same with Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry. Angus was under strict instructions to never call Merle for anything, though Mavis had potential to be at least competent even if she was underaged. Uncle Davenport was out to sea and Uncle Magnus... he already had his hands full with his dog school. Stirring that into a houseload of cats plus one sick Elf was probably not the smartest idea. That left Mrs Hakniid, next door... or Madam Director Lucretia Clarke.

Both women were on Taako's never-call-ever list for different reasons. Angus had seen the dramatisations on the Fantasy Television, and heard the snarky muttering from his Dad, but he knew it was bad stuff. Madam Director had made Papa forget his own sister - practically most of his life, if you believed Papa. Whilst Mrs Hakniid was...  _Jason's_ mother, and it took a very special sort of person to raise someone like  _Jason_ and be proud of it.

Of the two, Angus figured that Papa could at least tolerate Madam Director babysitting his child. Papa barely trusted Mrs Hakniid with feeding his cats, and these were beasts who terrorised the local dire-catfish. There would be yelling, for sure, but none of that yelling would be  _at Angus._ He was just a very small boy doing his best.

The pressure pot started to hiss, so Angus took it off the heat and set a timer so the stuff inside could cool and normalise a little before serving.

That was the best time to call for help.

The Stone tones rang and rang and rang... and finally Madam Director picked up. "Taako, it's a little early for your shenanigans, so--"

"Ma'am, it's me, ma'am, sorry to interrupt, ma'am."

"Angus? What's going on?"

"Papa's sick."

"Is he saying that he's dying?"

"No, ma'am, he's been very quiet. I made some chi--"

"I'll be right over," she said, and ended the call.

Angus served a bowl of chicken soup - fending off the cats again - and brought it, the tea, and the Fantasy Tylenol to Papa's bedside. There, three of the cats decided to settle on Papa's bed while two more repeatedly tried to get under the protective cover Angus had wisely used over the tray.

"Papa? Papa I (shoo!) made you some (scat!) soup... and I got (psssst!) some medicine for you."

Papa coughed and the attempted thieves bolted for some hidey-holes. He opened his eyes and managed, "...there's my beau'ful baby boy..."

"I made soup, sir," Angus repeated, glad that the cats were discouraged. "And I know I shouldn't be unsupervised, so I called in a little help."

"...unsuper--" Papa winced. "...please tell me y' didn' call  _Susan..."_

"No, sir. I called Madam Director."

Papa hauled himself partially upright and mumbled something about anything being better than Mrs Hakniid. It was weird seeing Papa without any of his bangles or bells and only sleepers in his ears and none of his makeup. He moved like a much older man as he took his medicine and then supped at his soup. "Contest's over," he croaked, "I got the best baby in the world."

Angus said, "Do you need hugs, sir?"

"Eh, I prolly caught what you had last week," he managed. "Snuggle on in, punkin."

The world felt a lot safer when Papa's arms could protect him from it.

When Madam Director arrived, she found Angus reading  _Caleb Cleveland and the Pernicious Poison_ to his father, who intermittently napped during the performance. His only acknowledgement of her presence was a mumbled, "Frisk 'er for Voidfish," before he resumed his more usual slumber.


	46. Reader Request #124

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FifiMae on Chapter 45 of Tumbl'd 3  
> I've notest that in almost all of your stories Kravitz and Taako are already married and I'd love to see their wedding and/or engagement.

The day of Story and Song is legendary. The week after is also legendary, but for other reasons. It holds the Faerun-wide record for the most proposals and weddings ever committed. This in spite of, or perhaps because of, the cleanup resulting from the devastation that the Hunger War had wrought.

So many were austentatious. So many were understated. So many were two blushing people running to the nearest Cleric. By comparison, the legendary twins were rather reserved. They went about their business as it came to them... sealed their deal with the Raven Queen, and found a copy of the Mountain Ygdrassi manor-house that was exactly like the one their grandfather had once owned back in their home world. Thanks to the peculiarities of dimensional shenanigans, they had a genetic claim to the house and land. Unfortunately, as it was found.

None of that mattered to Taako. He used magic on the daily to restore the old place to its former glory. That included taming the deer that still inhabited the premises. Taako seemed to be filling in time, waiting for something. Gathering things seemingly at random, and frantically searching for others to the point of manic stress.

Kravitz couldn't get answers out of him, no matter how hard he tried. There were a chain of evasions, distractions, and questions that seemed unrelated. Allergies, aesthetics, likes and dislikes... It all seemed unrelated.

Until two days after Lup returned to her fleshy body and Taako threw a celebratory feast. Kravitz should have guessed then, because Taako never threw a party with just one occasion to celebrate. He should have definitely been clued in by Barry's mischief smile when they got to dessert. Where the engagement rings were hidden. They were nestled in cream rosettes on top of little cakes that were hidden under chocolate globes that melted artistically under the hot custard sauce.

...he had wondered why Taako wasn't having any of his sweet creations. Asking why had got the answer: "Mine won't match."

The sparkling silver ring, slightly marred by custard, held a single, perfect circle of Aquamarine... the colour of the gemstone necessary to reach the Prime Material Plane[1]. Taako was resting his chin on his interwoven fingers and looking more nervous than Kravitz had ever seen him.

"How 'bout it, babe? You and me forever?"

Taako was a mortal. Though he had lived a hundred years longer than he should have already, and died a total of nineteen times during the course of his adventures, he had no concept of what 'forever' could mean. "Only if you include a guilt-free renegotiation once a millennium."

"Deal," said Taako. "Don't think it'll be necessary, though."

Meanwhile, Lup and Barry were squealing and hugging each other, having given each other the rings they had given each other for fifty worlds... plus one. "Double wedding!" Lup was singing as she danced with her beloved. "We can all wear the prettiest dresses."

"Aw shit yeah," said Barry.

"Barold, we all know yours is going to be Denim, so I challenge that 'prettiest' thing you had going."

"You're going to wear a dress, Taako?"

"Try and fucking stop me."

"Dresses are fun," said Lup. "We've known this for ages."

Kravitz couldn't help it. He was already grinning like a fool. "Fine. I'll wear a dress, too."

"Sure thing, babe. _Someone_ has to be in white."

* * *

 

 

They did not, after some significant debate, get married on the moon. They got married in New Phandolin, where everything started and, ultimately, everything finished. They had a grove that was a popular place for weddings, and the springtime flowers made many a ceremony. Theirs was the first multiple wedding since the Marriages of Story and Song, so it made some news.

 _Birds Headed For Gilded Cage,_ said most newspapers.  _Taako Welcomes Grim Embrace of Death,_ said many more. Some even went as far as,  _Bluejeans on Fire._ They were having lots of fun.

Taako wore black, but it was black with bags and bags of style. A fine black fabric called  _Voidweave_ , and veils made of Zephyrsilk. Beads of jet and tiny, seed luminpearls to make constellations on his train and skirts. Nebulas hung off his bodice and two tiny suns nestled in his tiara.

Kravitz, as promised, wore white. Glowing and iridescent and sparkling like a thousand stars in one place. Lup was a vision in flame. She, too, had chosen zephyrsilk, but her colour scheme was, of course, flame inspired. Every breeze made her look as if she were going to catch any flammable object, and the two suns in her tiara just looked like extra sparks. She had done a lot of work with sunstones and rubies and bright yellow topaz.

Just as Taako predicted, Barry wore denim. This was not utilitarian denim in the slightest, but fancy denim. On him, the way it was made and augmented, it looked like a flowing, dark river, full of mysteries. His augmentation was silver, subtle, and somehow entirely... Barry Bluejeans.

All of this took only a second to absorb because all four partners were already bolting for their future spouses. Four skirts flying. Four honour guards rushing to keep up. Four bubbling laughs and four twirling embraces and four breathless kisses.

"All right, all right. Keep it for the end," said Merle Highchurch, mandatory celebrant for most weddings tied to the Seven Birds. However, since this was held on the deck of the  _Starblaster,_ there were two.

Davenport was thirty percent along on his transformation towards Trash Pirate Fashion Plate, but he had tidied up for the ceremony and even wore the tricorn hat that was the most hated part of his Captain's Uniform. He hadn't voluntarily put it on for one hundred and sixteen years. This was the first time in history that he wasn't obligated to add it to his head. Which meant a great deal to the crew, who were all touching their eyes at the sight of it.

Kravitz had never been prouder to wear a ring he had been promised almost a year ago. His ring for Taako's hand had a circle of sapphire in gold. They promised forever, with the rider of free renegotiation once a millennium. They promised care. They promised love, even when beauty faded. It was easy to promise such, because his heart was full of love.

After the ceremony, Taako kept a distance from his former Shipmate, Lucretia. Lup and Barry had invited her and she turned up in her Arcanist's uniform. She did not try to negotiate for peace and, considering the betrayal she had wrought, Kravitz understood. Having seen the twins together, he knew what Taako had missed for twelve years. He also knew what kind of torture it had been for Lup in her Umbrastaff.

Though it was all better, now, the wounds were still raw.

Kravitz stayed out of it, preferring to keep not letting go of Taako's hand in his. He trusted his love and his lover to sort things out eventually. He trusted Taako.

Forever.

With a guilt-free renegotiation once a millennium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]: I probably picked a different gemstone in some other fic, but for the life of me I can't find it. Halp.


	47. Nonny Request #117

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Could we have a Young Angus Verse story in which Kravitz sings Angus a lullaby, please? Thank you!

[AN: Holy shit I missed this for so long AAAAAHHHH please don’t hate me, Nonny]

It was late, and Papa wasn’t home. Dad had kept Angus’ mind off it for this long, but the clock still ticked and the hours mounted up.

“Papa’s not back,” Angus worried. He had grown used to accepting the idea that new parents weren’t permanent and still feared that these ones would somehow vanish.

“Papa’s going to be fine,” said Dad. “I’d know if he was in danger. It’s way past your bedtime now. You’re in your pajamjams, you’ve heard your chapter...”

Angus couldn’t sit still, and couldn’t make himself be sleepy. He’d already had some of Papa’s guaranteed apple pancakes and better-than-a-sleep-potion hot chocolate, but he still couldn’t make himself rest. “Papa kisses me goodnight,” he managed, voice trembling. “He’s not here t’ kiss me g’night...”

“I know, pet. I know. Some missions take longer than a day, love. Papa loves you to bits, and he’ll be back as soon as he can. Uncle Barry and Aunty Lup are going to help him if he’s in danger... It’s okay...”

Sniffle. Sob. “...’m scared ‘nyway...”

Dad held him close and started humming. Rocking gently as he swayed back and forth.  _“Au clair de la lune,/ Mon ami Pierrot,/ Prête-moi ta plume/ Pour écrire un mot...”_

Angus didn’t understand Fantasy French, but the melody and rhythm were gentle enough to remind him that his tummy was overful of warm carbs and at least  _some_  of his family was here. He blinked... longer and longer... every time he opened his eyes or woke up a little, Dad was still singing. Softly. Gently. Calmly. If Dad could be relaxed about Papa not being home yet, Angus could certainly try.

Blink... most of the lights were out, there was just enough light to give shape to the darkness.

Blink... one of the cats was making biscuits in Angus’ leg.

Blink... the same cat and three of its fellows were curled up on him and Dad.

Blink... Gold and green light in the dark. The familiar shape of Papa in the night lights. “Hey, pumpkin... I head you missed me.”

“...’s worried ‘bou’chu...”

A warm smile. “I literally can’t die, baby. Not for a whole lot more years. Papa’s safe. It’s all okay.” Warm hands in his hair. Warm lips on his brow. “Wanna get tucked in now?”

“Five more minutes?” he begged.

Papa settled down with him and Dad and about five cats. “Sure thing.” His purr was the secret ingredient, and the next time he opened his eyes, it was dawn... and both his parents were still wrapped around him.


	48. Reader Request #125

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> Can I have baby or toddler Angus throwing his first temper tantrum and either everyone’s or just Taako and Kravitz’ reactions?

[AN: I think there was a prompted AU in which Angus was somehow a Taakitz baby so I’m taking it from there]

Angus Taakoson had had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. The forces of fate, fortune, and family were all against him. He kept hearing ‘no’, the cats kept avoiding him when they weren’t hissing and clawing at him, he had just discovered the Wards that pushed him harmlessly away from all the  _interesting_  places. Then, to top it all off, to make a wet, miserable day even  _worse,_  Apa served Angus a plate full of  _broccoli._

It smelled bad. All the cheese sauce and sparkling lights in the world could not make it smell better. Angus pushed the plate away and said, “Yuck! No!”

Apa smiled in spite of the plate of yuck and produced a plate of yum, Apa’s incredibly delightful Sweet Potato Mash. “Good little boys eat their food, Ango,” he said. “You can’t say it’s yuck until you’ve had some.” Instead of the yum, Apa put a tiny little bit of  _broccoli_  and a lot of cheese sauce on the spoon. “Try a little, and you get some sweet potato after.”

Somewhere in the blurry distance, Aunty Lulu said, “You can’t bribe or bargain with a baby, bro.”

“Yeah, like  _you_  got experience points in that,” grumbled Apa. He waved the spoon in the air. “Aaaaahhh?”

“‘Course I got experience points, I raised  _you_  didn’t I?”

Angus pinched his lips together and turned his head away. “Mm-mm!”

“Listen,” said Apa. “I can keep all of this as warm and as fresh as I like  _all_  day. Sooner or later, you’re gonna be hungry enough to eat  _anything.”_

_“NO!”  
_

Apa was quicker. He popped the spoon and its horrible contents into Angus’ mouth so neatly that it all came as a shock. He could taste cheese, but he knew, he just  _knew_  that it had been poisoned with the horrible, horrible  _broccoli yuck._  Therefore, so had he.

Angus screamed and wailed, thrashing all four limbs and tossing his little baby head as he fought against the torturous restraint of the high chair.

* * *

 

Seven heroes and their significant others were watching this performance, one up close and personal, where he had just received the world’s tiniest broccoli floret to the face at maximum possible velocity. Cheese sauce included.

There was a lot of giggling.

Kravitz was trying to be a stern Papa, but was rolling ones at the sight before him.

“What a big drama from such a little boy,” said Lucretia.

Magnus was in absolute fits, holding himself up against the closest counter and wiping tears from his eyes.

Merle was crowing. “How do you like it? How do you like it now, smartypants? Shoes on the other foot, boy...” He was referring one of the hundred worlds in which the Twins were turned into Terrible Elf Larva and he, Merle, was chief in charge of making them do anything related to their needs.

Taako calmly used the spoon to scoop the cheese-and-microscopic-broccoli-floret off his cheek and waited. Primed to pop it back in that howling baby mouth as soon as opportunity allowed.

Davenport, watching with the cats from a very safe high shelf, sipped his wine and said,  _“Why_  am I having flashbacks? Why am  _I_  having flashbacks?”

Lup, still giggling, said, “Oh, you know. Dad’nport.”

Barry said, “I’d either use Command, or just... wait a few weeks before introducing him to broccoli.”

At the mention of the hated word, baby Angus renewed his howling protest against that particular vegetable.

“I am not,” announced Taako, “going to lose a battle of wits to a gosh-darned  _toddler.”_


	49. Reader Request #126

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> Can I have Little Angus (either adopted or Taakitz baby) with his dads on his first day of school? Getting ready or the aftermath of school?

Angus woke before dawn, a bundle of energy and excitement. Today was the day! He bounced on his bed until the light was bright enough to see, and rushed through his morning ablutions at maximum possible speed. There was one thing he couldn’t do, and that was the rest of getting ready.

He needed Apa and Dad.

Still in his PJ’s and bed socks, Angus scurried to the master bedroom. Apa and Dad liked to sleep in, but today was way too important. Dad was dead to the world, of course. Apa wrapped around him and purring in his sleep. Angus had more than half a chance with waking  _Apa._

He clambered up onto the big bed and picked a spot free of lurking limbs or body parts, then started jumping. “FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! COME ON APA! COME ON DAD! FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!”

“...dunwanna go t’ school...” Apa mumbled. “...five more minutes...”

“Apaaaaaa... it’s time for me to go to school. I gotta get ready, come oooonnnn....”

Apa’s purr turned into a low growl. “Ango, baby. It’s...” he fumbled around for a timepiece and squinted at it. “It’s not even five AM yet.” He yawned. “Gimmie half an hour, m’kay?”

“Half an hour? But that’s  _forever...”_  Angus bounced even more. “I wanna get ready  _nooowwww...”_

“MmmmnnnnNNNNGH...” Apa shoved at Dad. “Babe. Babe wake up.  _Babe!_  Up and at ‘em lazybones.”

“...mmh?”

“Your son wants us to get ready already.”

_“My_  son?” said Dad. “Lemme explain some basic biology to you, babe.”

“I wanna get ready, I wanna get ready,” chanted Angus. “First day of school!”

“...i need coffee,” sighed Apa.

Dad sighed and lurched into a sitting position. “All right, Dove. I’ll get this little lad bathed  _and_  your coffee ready. You see to breakfast and the lunchbox.”

“...sch’l unif’rm’s inna top draw’r...” mumbled Apa, burrowing under the covers.

“I swear ‘e does that just to get in the extra kip,” Dad muttered, and then scooped Ango up. “Awright, young master. Let’s start the coffee before we have a bath, eh?”

Angus laughed and cheered, and  _almost_  missed the rude gesture Apa made with the one hand poking out from the bedclothes, which made the morning even funnier as Dad tried to distract him.

Morning chaos was always fun, but  _this?_  This was  _exciting_  too. Angus got bathed and dressed in his brand new uniform. Of course he helped Dad prepare the coffee. Apa was still in  _his_  PJs as he took his first cup.

Stronger than the love of the gods, blacker than the depths of space, and with enough maple sugar to sweeten the heart of Asmodeus himself. Bit by bit, degree by degree, Apa came to life. Which was always a bit weird because technically? Dad was the dead one.

Apa helped with the lunchbox. Angus selected the things to pack. Sandwiches, snacks, fruit... everything a small, yet growing magic boy needed to have a good day. And, of course, breakfast. It was a larger family affair in the  _big_  kitchen, with Aunt Lup and Apa having their ongoing sibling argument while getting everything ready and stealing each other’s ingredients. Dad and Uncle Barry could be relied upon to peel or chop things, but they spent most of their time admiring their respective spouses.

It was a great morning.

Apa picked out some super glittery clothes and readied his favourite deer saddle. They were going to ride in  _style._  Angus grinned. He couldn’t wait to see the other kids’ faces when  _he_  came to school on a real live Elven Riding Deer! Of course Apa picked the one with the impressive antlers and the tack that included silver bells. Apa just adored showing off.

Dad could just take a portal if he wanted to, but he chose to ride with, this day.  _His_  mount was more... his work aesthetic, so he changed out of his fleshy look and went with his work look on.

“Think I’m going to knock ‘em dead?” Dad asked.

“Da-a-aad...”

“Only figuratively, babe.”

It was going to be the  _best_  day.


	50. Nonny Request #118

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Can I get a fluffy beach day fic from Kintsugi? Asked on anon so you don’t know who sent this :P

[AN: Sure. I’m completely fooled. 9_9 Rather than explain Kintsugi, I started posting it on AO3. Read the beginning [here](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F21249698%2Fchapters%2F50595434&t=YWU5OWY0YzZmNzA3NTE1N2I0NGJkNmQzM2VkNmNmZjZlYjdjNDQyNCwyaGs2ZGpiOQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ATgFobn6zg5SomzVkFhVbfw&p=https%3A%2F%2Finternutter.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F188717390104%2Fcan-i-get-a-fluffy-beach-day-fic-from-kintsugi&m=0). More chapters as time and availability dictates]

Sometimes, you just need a break. A chance to get away from it all and chill. This place… This place looked perfect for that. Beautiful white sand, perfect blue ocean.

“Aaaw yeah. I could really use a beach day,” cheered Magnus.

“No need to tell me twice, broski,” Taako was already in his fantasy swim trunks. He took to the water like he’d been born in it, and was soon almost out of sight in the waves.

“Any chance he’ll drown?” grumbled Merle, the group’s unofficial Grumpy Grampa.

“Not likely, sir,” said Angus from inside the caravan.  _He_  was still changing. “Papa’s pretty adept at the water stuff.”

Mak’arune emerged in a neck-to-knee number with a superfluous peplum and stripes made out of flowers. Angus’ were floral trunks. “Big water,” she said.

Merle, too, was already in his trunks. “That’s the ocean. One of Nature’s true wonders. It won’t bite, but it can be tricky. You see that part where the waves won’t break? That’s a riptide. Stay the fuck away from that.”

Mak paddled with Angus in the shallows, staying the hell away from the riptide. Merle went in deeper.

Magnus shrugged and stripped down to his Fantasy Meundies and rushed into the water. He didn’t go out as far as Taako, who was using the waves to sort of push him towards the shore without ever completely coming in. Magnus kept his eye on Mak and Ango, making sure they were safe. They didn’t go in further than Ango’s waist and had a great deal of shrieking and splashing around.

Merle came to shore with a fish, which he stuck on a stick up by their campsite. He strolled back into the water and ducked under as soon as he could. He seemed to be having fun with it, whatever it was.

Taako emerged from the waves to show Mak and Ango how to make Dribble Castles. He watched Merle wander past with a collection of shellfish and other creatures, and washed his hands in the salty water. He set up the cauldron, but didn’t do anything to cook. He gathered firewood and put some water in the cauldron, but after that, it was giving instructions to Merle.

Magnus kept watch on Mak’arune and Angus. Their dribble castle was getting ridiculous. He waded ashore and said, “I think Papa Taako needs more help. Let’s wash our hands.”

Sure enough Taako and Merle were having their four PM argument.

“Your hands aren’t broken, and you obviously know your shit. Why aren’t you doing any of this shit?”

Taako said, “I won’t do it. I can’t let it happen again.”

“Let  _what_  happen again.”

Magnus, walking in on it all, said, “Glamour Springs.”


	51. Reader Request #127

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NorthernAurora on Chapter 30 of _Young Angus Adventures_  
> Hurray!  
> The family being out and about and running into some homo- or xenophobe, and Taako not taking it well (cuz bad experiences with such folk) and Angus standing up for his parents and giving the bigot a Reasons-you-both-suck-and-are-wrong speech.

It had been a lovely day. School holidays gave them plenty of opportunity to have some bonding activities. In this case, it was collecting the newest of the Caleb Cleveland novels that dear little Ango adored beyond reason. They'd arrived early of course, but not early enough. Some of these people had been waiting by the bookstore since the evening prior.

Fortunately, Taako was a fucking wizard _and_ he had a Pocket Spa. Each of them took turns in the relaxing interior when their feet ached from the waiting. That, and pocket pudding made for some interesting improvised times. Finally, the queue started shuffling towards the bookstore. Taako reduced the Pocket Spa and took Ango's hand in his. "Okay, pumpkin. Now remember there's lots of people who want this book. We might not be able to get it today..."

"That's okay, Papa. We had to try, and it's been fun waiting."

"Papa?" Echoed one of the fellow queueing parentals. "I thought you were a woman."

Taako barely turned to look. "What's the big deal? You're a dude too, my dude."

"Why do you knife-ears gotta be so..." a limp-wristed gesture. "I've been checking you out for like two hours and now I gotta find out you been trying to make me gay."

"Dad..." sighed the child with him. They shared a mutual look of contact mortification with Angus.

Taako scoffed. "Sure. I go around to bookstores on the reg, trying to recruit random idiots for a menage a trois with me and my husband. Right in front of my child."

The xenophobic, homophobic father scoffed. "That can't be yours. You stole him."

_"Da-a-ad..."_ whined the luckless child in tow.

Taako was already scoping out avenues for escape. Trapped by the queue and his need to see Angus happy. Angus saw all of this and more. He'd had enough.

"Actually, it was a completely legal adoption, so my Papa had to prove he'd be a better parent than you are, sir."

Taako gasped, "Sweetie, no..."

"My Papa would never cheat on my Dad, sir, but judging by your 'game over' Fantasy Tee Shirt, you view wedded bliss as more of a death sentence."

The other child looked up at their father. "You  _are_ always saying bad things about Mom..." they said. "Do you hate Mom, Daddy?"

"Now wait a second," said the former loudmouth. "I never said anything about--"

"And speaking of infidelity, sir, you did admit to 'checking out' my Papa for two hours. Which implies that you have entertained playing hooky from your marriage more that once, and with multiple people you identified as female."

His kid had wide eyes and a gaping mouth, which they only closed to mouth, "Holy shit," in Angus' direction.

"Sir, since you feel threatened by finding yourself attracted to another man, I would advise that you reconsider your previous comforts with heterosexuality, and at least investigate the possibilities of bi, or even pan-curiosity. Physical attraction doesn't necessitate taking things to the next level, or any level at all, sir," said Angus. "But please consider your child or children. Being openly avaricious towards others in front of your kids is not a wholesome environment for them."

The bigoted man made a fist, but didn't raise it.

Taako had recovered himself. "I don't know if you know me,  _kind sir,"_ here pronounced,  _garbage just waiting for trash collection day._  "But you might have a better time if you picture me in a fucking red robe." A meaningful tap of the famous Umbrastaff II against the pavement. "Throw hands at any child here,  _sir,_ and you will no longer be able to remember what hands  _are."_

A dawning horror crept across his face and that big, loud maw flapped shut.

The kid in his charge whispered, "Hey, is your Dad really the Grim Reaper?"

Angus smiled. "He's hardly that grim any more, since he met Papa."

[AN: Apologies for the delay, y'all]


	52. Reader Request #128

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> Taakitz baby!Angus like two years old in the kitchen “helping” his Apa bake. In actuality he’s sitting on the counter mashing bananas in a bowl that have nothing to do with the recipe but Taako gave it to him to do so Ango feels like he’s being helpful.

Taako was making bread. Sweetbread, sourdough, wholemeal muffins with added bits, brioche... it had been a while since he’d had the time to really  _bake_  and there was something about kneading that was relaxing and mediative. Ango was seemingly occupied with some of the more harmless kitchen tools, wheeling things back and forth over the countertop.

That was what he had been doing until Taako caught him playing with some of the dough he’d set apart to rise.

“Yeah, I know. This looks like your fun colourful stuff, baby.” Taako gently separated the blob from Angus’ tiny hands, scooping up his boy into his arms. “This is hard to understand, nugget, but Apa’s not playing. Apa’s working.”

“Wanna play,” insisted Angus.

“That stuff has to sit quietly for a while. It’s in time-out,” Taako explained. “It’s having a nap so it can grow big and strong.”

“No naps!”

“No, you don’t have to have a nap...” Taako thought hard. How old had he been when Aunt Ques had welcomed his presence in the kitchen? It seemed like an everyday thing. There hadn’t been a memory of Aunt Ques when he wasn’t in a kitchen with her. Well, her and of course Lup.

His earliest cooking lesson had been mashing soft fruit, and he couldn’t recall if any of that product had gone into anything Aunt Ques made that day...

Taako mage-handed over some bananas  and peeled them, getting out another bowl in a long line of bowls and some tools that might be enjoyable. “You, my sweet little nugget, can help Apa smash up  _all_  these bananas.”

“Yay!” cheered Angus.

Taako gave his baby a butter knife. “Take a banana... and chop it up into this bowl.”

Angus was more wont to stab it within the bowl, but that wasn’t any skin off of Taako’s nose. It let him get on with kneading and rolling and pressing and portioning. Of course, when Angus was done with the cutting, he was allowed to graduate onto the mashing. The kid soon gave up on using the mashing wand, preferring to get gloriously sticky with his own fingers.

Ah, what the hell. They could probably do with some banana bread anyway. Or maybe banana cake. Cake would mean less stress for Angus, since there was less waiting for the dough to rise. Choco-banana muffins for sure.

Angus could sift flour into the goo, and ‘help’ stir. As far as Taako remembered, his early cooking adventures had been more about the mess than they had been about making anything to eat.

...he’d need another bath. Natch. That was no real bother. Bath time was fun and the stuff in the oven wouldn’t burn in the time it took to get one sticky little baby clean. Then it would be time to get sticky  _again_  with icing and decorating and all that fun stuff.

Lup had enjoyed making the cupcakes and muffins pretty, Taako recalled. Maybe Angus would like that too.

But that was hours - and about six more bananas away.


	53. Reader Request #129

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NorthernAurora on Chapter 8 of Young Angus Adventures:  
> This is my 'nt time reading trough the YAV,and every time I read this particular chapter my need for a purr-heap is intensifying. Is it possible to request a fic of Angus, Taako and Kravitz all purring? I know Krav is a human, but his body is a magical construct, and he seem to have very good control over his appearance,  
> so him making/giving himself the ability to purr by rearranging his vocal cords tracks. If only to be closer to his elven family.

Kravitz didn't need to sleep. He was dead and had been dead for uncounted centuries. That said, being with Taako gave him more than enough excuses to put his head down and rest in the night. He would follow Taako's lead when it came to resting and either meditate with him or, when Taako was feeling indulgent or just wanted to be lazy, sleep.

Taako said that Elves  _could_ sleep, it was a far lighter rest than they were used to. Trancing was automatic, but left an Elf vulnerable to attackers since the trance was so deep that they wouldn't notice even if someone cut their throat. Years of running and being on the road had taught the twins to sleep in uncertain circumstances. However, thanks to their century-long voyage, they had switched to viewing sleep as a luxury. An excuse to be lazy and spend eight hours or more -and it was often more- in exercising their rests.

There were nights when Taako would get Kravitz to watch over him because he could never Trance alone, mostly because he had too much work. There were nights and mornings in which Taako would lounge around for hours with his eyes closed, snoring or purring as the case may be.

Now that they had Angus, Taako was sleeping every night. It was the only way, he said, to be certain he'd be there for his baby. Angus McDonald. Six-year-old adoptee of a dead man and technically an alien from another dimension. The institutional life had worked the little lad over in a bad way, and Taako logically reasoned that  _he_ was the one who had to wake up for all the obligatory nightmares.

Kravitz's job required that he be hunting death criminals at any given hour. His work never had a schedule and the call of his boss could not be ignored. She could, if she felt like it, summon him from anywhere at any time and deliver him to the location of his bounty in an eyeblink. Fortunately, the gods have a soft spot for true love and her methods were far more gentle. Far more understanding of all the varied mortal shenanigans.

Which was why he had begged two days a week to make sure Taako had -at minimum- one healthy Trance session a week. Extended periods of time with sleeping could harm an Elf both physically and psychologically. Kravitz wanted to be certain Taako had at least one healthy rest, because he was in love with that mad alien Elf and wanted his mortal span to be as long as it could get.

Right now, he was watching his love and his baby sleep. Curled up together with a Caleb Cleveland novel in the vicinity of their hands. Purring and sighing in their sleep.

Angus was a half-Elf, and could potentially Trance like Taako. Either Trancing wasn't as natural for him or nobody had bothered to try and teach him. Either way, Kravitz regularly searched the tiny lad's pulse-points for the first signs of Blight.

Learning about  _that_ had made for a very interesting fifth date, indeed.

Kravitz dismissed those concerns. He was looking after his husband, now. And where he might not pick up the subtle clues, there were Lup and Barry to hold him down as necessary, and they had the rest of the Starblaster crew for backup. Everything was going to be fine. Better than fine. Nobody looked after family like a good family.

There was that familiar pang of jealousy again. He envied his co-workers and husband their bond. He wanted to be a part of that. He wanted to  _belong._ He wanted to be wholly and completely part of something like that. Hell, even Taako and Angus had purring in common. Kravitz had no doubt that Taako would soon help Angus learn how to Trance and feel safe. Kravitz knew that purring was part of the bonding process with Elven kind.

He... needed to be able to purr if he wanted to bond with his son. Well. Bond deeper than the mere surface association he felt now.

Kravitz was used to a Human form, but he could appear as anything he liked. He could  _be_ anything he liked. So he made himself comfortable in the Big Family Cote, and concentrated on re-weaving himself as an Elf. A half-Elf, so that he could have a little something in common with Angus. With the ears came other different aspects... such as the ability to purr.

He made himself comfortable on the other side of Angus and focussed on feeling parental. Focussed on the love he had for both Taako and their tiny boy.

Starting to purr for the first time was... an interesting sensation. A tickle, a murmur, a thrumming vibration that shook his entire chest and felt... comforting.

Taako opened his lovely, lovely eyes. "Babe..." he murmured.

"I want him to hear I love him too."

Taako had an indelible, soppy grin on his face. "You sap..." Translated from Taako-ese,  _I love you harder than I have at any moment._


	54. Reader Request #130

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> Young Angus at a mall with Taako and Keavitz and they run into Sazed. And Angus deduces something that leads to Sazed getting arrested.

Angus first sensed trouble when he felt Papa’s hands go cold. Papa froze bare seconds after that, so it was relatively easy to deduce that something big was amiss. 

Dad noticed too, and said, “Dove?”

Papa pointed a shaking finger at a humanman in a bookstore. He was waiting to sign books with his face on them and the title,  _Wrongful Evidence._  There weren’t a lot of people buying it.

“Let’s... let’s go another way,” said Papa.

The man at the bookstore had other plans, and called, “Taako! Taako, come on over! Let’s settle this like adults.”

Papa muttered, “Gods damn it...”

Angus said, “Papa? What’s wrong?”

“Just... someone from my past, honey. Someone I thought I trusted...”

Angus had a few memories of the Story and Song. Well, ones that stuck in his head, at any rate. He did remember that trust was a huge deal for the Twins of the Starblaster. For someone to lose Papa’s trust... that  _had_  to make him a bad man. Angus didn’t like judging prejudicially like that, so he looked out for any other evidence of misdeeds or chicanery.

One: The way Papa greeted this Humanman. “Sazed,” he said with a chill beyond the arctic. “Got your spotlight at last, it seems. In a way.”

Two, the finer print on the covers of Sazed’s book:  _One man’s fight against a prejudicial legal system in his own words._  Angus opened a copy on the table and started speed-reading. He mentioned a place called Glamour Springs. That was one of Papa’s nightmares, Angus recalled.

Papa still felt bad about something that had happened there.

Fortunately, there was a true crime display nearby and Angus could take more books to speed-read so long as he was within sight of Papa or Dad.

It didn’t take him long to find all the errors in Mr Sazed’s book. For starters, the forty deaths at Glamour Springs was only glanced at in there, but the other books never left out a single detail. One book even had complete autopsy reports.

When Angus came up for air, Papa was radiating icy fury and Dad was all but threatening vengeance in hushed yet civil tones. “Excuse me, sir,” said Angus. “Papa? Dad? I believe I’ve found some flaws in Mr Sazed’s key arguments.”

Sazed glared down at him and tried to loom. “You’re a baby,” he said. “You can’t even read.”

“On the contrary, sir, I can and have read five books on the topic of Glamour Springs. You weren’t declared innocent, nor exonerated for mass murders, but your trial was put on hold until sufficient evidence could be gathered. I have that evidence here.”

Papa’s frosted anger eased into soft, putty-like adoration. “That’s my boy,” he whispered. “That’s my beautiful genius boy...”

Angus placed five books in a line.  _Anatomy of a Massacre, The Ghoul of Glamour Springs, Minds of Monsters, Deliberate or Disaster,_  and Mr Sazed’s own  _Wrongful Evidence._  “Mr Sazed’s trial was put on hold because the evidence in the Story and Song is not legal evidence and only holds to Papa’s character with all his memories intact. That part is regrettably true. However... Anatomy and Deliberate both state that wizards who transmute food always focus on the taste. Which is why Papa’s -and I quote your book- ‘stupid chicken tricks’ always involved the cooked product rather than the raw meat.”

Papa started to relax. Dad started radiated pride. Mr Sazed started looking nervous.

“Since Papa has never tasted arsenic, even within the Century of Stories, I find it suspicious that the people of Glamour Springs perished due to arsenic poisoning.”

“Nightshade,” corrected Mr Sazed. “It was nightshade poisoning. The elderberries were transmuted... and Taako’s certainly tasted nightshade.”

“Only during the Century, and that episode was documented and retold,” said Angus. “Papa had no memory of the Century during the years when he was running  _Sizzle it Up!_  sir. That was definitely well-known, especially in view of Papa’s genial attitudes to people during his decade incognito.”

Now Mr Sazed was looking  _really_  nervous. “Er,” he said.

“Further, the symptoms of arsenic poisoning only  _resemble_  the symptoms of nightshade poisoning, as described in Minds and Ghoul. There are distinctive differences between the two, and the victims of Glamour Springs all perished from Arsenic, and the evidence is very plain. Therefore, we have a large number of poisonings, connected with the  _Sizzle it Up!_  show. There is definite evidence in all who died, including those found with elderberries in their pockets or hands. Papa could not have created arsenic in food, so that leaves anyone else connected with the show. That leaves you, sir, as the only viable suspect.”

The gathered crowd, who had come to watch the fracas between Taako and his ex-manager, were starting to glare daggers at Mr Sazed.

“Further, Papa had no motive at all to poison anyone, sir. You, on the other hand, were repeatedly witnessed requesting time in the spotlight  _and_  equal billing. You had a definite motive to ruin Papa’s show.”

Mr Sazed had a knife. That was when the Fantasy Mall Cops pounced. Angus might have brought up enough circumstantial evidence to resume Sazed’s trial, but a fresh, attempted murder was  _far_  more interesting.


	55. Nonny Request #119

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> A tired, grumpy, young Ango, all too tired but also wound up, doing that thing kids do, going in circles, when they're tired. Up to Papa Taako to coerce him to sleep. If you dont mind that is. Thank you

Taako watched their adopted son going around in circles. Anxious or excited or just plain not wanting to go to sleep because the previous order of things was disrupted. It was easier to watch than trying to chase the kid down for sure. It had already been a long-ass day and he was personally too worn out to do extra pre-bedtime calisthenics.

Ango was obviously tired and just as obviously too stubborn to admit it. Going around the place in circles because keeping his body moving kept his brain awake or some shit like that. Taako, now a grown-ass adult, was more than a hundred years from that behaviour  _or_  those levels of energy.

How  _had_  his poor mother survived himself and Lup racing up and down the stairs on the twilit summer nights of Tre-Llew Ddion? No wonder she handed them off to Uncle Ench at summer’s end. They must have plain worn her the fuck out.

No, that was unfair. His whole family had secret weapons. Loggy foods. Pre-bedtime treats that were guaranteed to nail a kid down, stomach-first.

Taako smiled, leaving Angus to his orbits, and got out the kid-stopper ingredients. Sweet-pop fritters. Whipped cream, natch. The family recipe for hot chocolate... Flour, milk, cream (doy), honey -Ango was old enough for honey, but still too young for processed sugar- maple syrup, cocoa, maple sap, drinking chocolate, maple crystals, malt... herbs and spices...

Taako set up his prep station so he could keep an eye on Ango. All these recipes were the sort that could be put down in a second or less if an orbiting kid managed to trip and fall or otherwise hurt themself during their extended shenanigans. He seemed fine going around and around, but Taako wasn’t about to take any chances.

The thick, rich fritter batter was loaded with the nicer spices. Nutmeg, cinnamon, cardamom, and just the right zing of ginger, then peppered through with small cubes of green apple, sweet corn kernels, and a generous handful of raisins. A dash of just the right amount of maple syrup and they were ready to become fat golden blobs in the deep fryer.

Taako started the milk warming up. More cardamom and nutmeg, less ginger and cinnamon. Cocoa, of course. Malt was the new secret ingredient. The old one, Taako recalled, was a carefully-measured spoonful of medicinal rum. Not allowed in this day and age, no matter how medicinal it claimed to be. He sweetened the whole thing with honey and added a dollop of cream for richness before he began whipping the rest up for garnish, sweetened with the slightest dash of maple sap.

Once the fritters were fried on both sides, Taako let them drain and dry a little on Fantasy Paper Towels before dusting them over with a sparkling of maple crystals. This was magic enough to lure his boy to the kitchen counter, where wide, dark eyes watched the ordinary magic of meal prep in progress.

Long years in  _Sizzle it Up!_  gave Taako the knowledge of  _just_  the right amount of horseshit to add into the presentation. So when he plated up, he not only added some whipped cream flowers to Angus’ two middle-sized fritter blobs, but also some sparks from his Prestidigitation.

The hot chocolate was strained into Angus’ favourite mug, loaded with pink marshmallows and topped with more of the cream. It also got a light dusting of drinking chocolate.

It was better than a Sleep spell, and far more enjoyable to boot. Ango was nodding before he got halfway through his second fritter. Those freshly-sticky fingers of his were the perfect segue into tooth-brushing and bath time.

A warm bath, with the white noise provided by the bubbles, had Ango floppy and complacent before the last button was done up on his fluffy, flannel PJ’s. Taako purred as he carried their boy to the big family cuddle cote.

“...w’nna wait f’r daddy,” Ango complained muzzily.

“I know, pun’kin,” Taako cooed. “Daddy’s havin’ a big adventure and we can’t be awake the whole time. ‘S bad for your health.” An idea came to him like a brilliant new recipe. “How about I teach you a way to get the same rest faster so you can be awake for longer? Would you like that?”

“Mm-hmm...”

Ango would probably fall asleep on the first attempt... and maybe up to the tenth, but it was worth a shot. Little half-Elves didn’t Trance as easily as the full-blooded ones. It all depended on how dominant his Elven side was, actually.

Taako helped him sit properly and taught the correct breathing rhythm. He got it straight out of the tin, brilliant lad. Next, guiding him into the meditative state of mindfulness and memory. This was where, according to the clever souls who wrote all those books, a half-Elf was most likely to slip into sleep.

Ango defied expectations and lifted off of the cushions of the cote for a solid minute. Of fucking course Taako took a Fantasy Polaroid of the event. Then, he fell into slumber and Taako guided him down into a comfortable sleeping position, tucked in with a warm, fluffy blanket and weighed down by one of the cats.

Gods-damned adorable.

Taako scooted a little away so he could Trance peacefully. When he came up -and floated down- Krav was just entering the cote, crawling inside with exaggerated care. They smiled at each other in recognition of the Parental fear of waking the baby.

“Hey, Dove,” Krav whispered. “Sorry I missed bedtime.”

“I got him rested anyway,” Taako whispered in turn. “I’d better be big spoon so our baby can see you when he wakes up.”

They enjoyed a good, long kiss before Krav settled down. As he got comfortable, he murmured, “What is  _in_  those fritters? I thought I was bone tired before, but... you could knock me out with a feather.”

Taako snorted at the pun. “Ancient Elven secret,” he said, playing with Krav’s hair. “Get some rest. I’ll watch over us.”

Krav didn’t need much more convincing. Those fritters packed a punch.


	56. Reader Request #131

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Fic request: In Kintsugi Taako “I’m always a slut for pasta” Taco

There were certain advantages to living on the moon. For starters, the regular threats couldn’t get to them. Second, Kalen had no idea where any of his favourite targets were. Third...

“There’s a fucking Fantasy Olive Garden on the MOON!”

None of their patchwork family had seen Taako flip out like this about a restaurant. In fact, they’d never seen him excited about anything related to food since -well- since Glamour Springs.

“Fantasy Olive Garden?” said Merle, who missed the drama in Glamour Springs. “Really?”

“Shoosh,” advised Mak’arune. “This is good.”

“It might be the best,” said Angus.

“I didn’t know you were into Fantasy Italian,” said Magnus.

Taako said, “I’m always a slut for pasta.” He was looking at the Fantasy Olive Garden like someone who was looking at paradise. “And those bread sticks... hmmm...”

The rest of the patchwork family looked at each other with speculation in their eyes. They had a  _plan._

So, too, did Madam Director, who had added the Fantasy Olive Garden to the moon base five seconds after she heard about Taako’s difficulties with food. It took a special kind of genius to know how to use someone’s weaknesses for the greater good.

...the kind of genius it took one hundred years to create...


	57. Reader Request #132

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> Baby Angus being sick for the first time in his very young, very short life and Taako and Krav freaking out while Merle exasperatedly has to heal Ango.

When Kravitz came back at one in the morning, he found Taako pacing the floor with a very upset Angus in his arms. The baby was just wearing a diaper and Taako was looking very, very frazzled indeed.

“Great, you’re back,” said Taako. “Put that frosty hand of yours on our boy’s brow, real quick. Or hold him.” He didn’t even wait for permission, just thrust a whiny baby into his arms.

Angus just whimpered, but he was scalding hot to Kravitz’s senses. Hotter than Taako usually felt when he felt compelled to pounce on his undead hubby. “He... shouldn’t be this warm,” he allowed.

“No, our boy’s feverish,” said Taako. He had his Stone of Farspeech out and was apparently dialling a frequency from memory. “And it’d help if a certain alleged Cleric would PICK UP HIS DAMN STONE!”

Angus mewled piteously, poor baby had hardly any voice left to cry.

Kravitz hummed some soothing tunes, not exactly focussed on a spell, just trying to soothe their baby. Poor little Ango. Apa Taako had tried several home remedies, if the mess on the counter was any indication. Herbal teas and medicines, ice, herbal teas turned into ice... cooling washcloths, the lot.

“...the frequency you called did not pick up, if you would like to leave a message...” Taako slapped the stone down with an, “Abraca-fuck-you!”

Angus cried weakly, a limp and miserable weight in Kravitz’s arms.

“I could try a healing spell,” Kravitz offered.

Taako took a few steadying breaths. “You got Cure Disease?”

“No, but I do have Revifying Slumber... it might help break the fever if it counts as a Condition.”

“Worth a shot,” Taako shrugged. “I’m calling Mags. He’s closer to Bottlenose Cove, so  _he_  can go kick Merle’s ass for me.”

Kravitz started humming  _Lean on Me_  as he juggled Angus from one shoulder to the other. The magic flowed with the notes and Angus drowsed as he sucked his thumb. It was difficult for him to tell as he warmed up through the power of true love, but it seemed like Angus’ fever might be easing.

“Yeah, that’s Krav in the background. Ango’s sleeping for now, but... babies, right? Just... go sic your direhounds on Merle and get up his ass for having his Stone turned off. We need a cure or a rest or something... Already? Sweet. Soon.” Taako hung up. “Magnus is rushing in.”

“That’s good news,” sighed Kravitz. “Did my spell work?”

Taako felt their baby. “Still hot, so... nope. At least he gets a little sleep, poor mite.”

...and the parents, not so much. Kravitz could tell. “Have  _you_  had any kind of rest?”

“For the two days since you left?” Taako asked. “He started on this thing yesterday and I’ve been calling the Dwarf every other hour since that afternoon.”

So... possibly not. “I’m guessing I can’t spell you on this watch?”

“Fuck no.” Taako’s stone chimed, indicating Merle’s frequency. Taako pounced, “ThisiscasadelTaako, pleasetellmeyou’recominghere,”

Magnus’ voice said, “He had it on Silent the entire time, and yes, I am bringing him. Super-speed.”

“...fuck me, he has the Boots of Haste again,” muttered Taako. “Great news, lug. Just make sure he doesn’t impact the door on his way in. And re-set his fucking Stone while you’re there.”

“I already did that.”

Taako wavered a little during a really long blink. Kravitz caught him in a spare arm and guided him to the couch, draping a sleeping baby across his chest. “You just keep him close, Dove. I’ll do all the fielding.”

Taako mumbled, “You know I’m going to catch whatever crud Ango’s got, right? I’m going to be hideously ill.”

Kravitz said, “In sickness  _and_  health, babe,” and then smooched both his loves.

Magnus rushed in, Dwarven Cleric over his shoulder. Dogs at his heels. Every cat in Casa del Taako fled for safe enclosures and Angus himself woke at the ruckus and started his weak cries again.

Taako got up, glaring boiling liquid death at Merle and Magnus, and began again on the Grumpy Baby Two-step. “Get on over here and do that voodoo you do, damnit,” he grouched.

“I did make a promise,” Merle grumped, waddling over to the centre of attention. Taako sat so he could reach, and tried to fend off the sniffing and curious dogs that seemed to be everywhere.

“Heel,” Magnus barked, and the dogs seemingly evaporated from the area, clustering around the big, burly oaf. “Sit,” and they sat, panting in the way that all dogs did when they knew they were being good good boys.

Merle laid on hands and mumbled a few words to Pan and finally, Angus’ fever broke. “He’ll be able to ride out the rest, no trouble,” he announced. “Just a cold.”

“Just a cold,” mocked Taako. “Dude, a cold doesn’t drag out  _that_  long. Susan and her fucking anti-vax and wine crowd let that killer ‘flu get loose, didn’t they?”

“It wasn’t the killer ‘flu, geez...” Merle rolled his eyes. “It’s just some cruddy rhinovirus that’s doing the rounds. Hit him a little hard, that’s  _all.”_

“I’m gonna tear her and her little disease vectors a new one, just you wait,” Taako vowed.

“After a decent nap, Dove?” suggested Kravitz. “And a good meal. When was the last time you ate?” He was definitely two-missed-dinners crabby. Kravitz could tell.

“Uuuuuhhhh...”

“Yeah, you need to eat something,” decided Magnus. “One Magnus Special coming right up.”

“Oh gods, not Depression Dinner,” moaned Taako. “Out of the way, lugnuts, you always get the spice profile wrong...”

Magnus shot Kravitz an ‘OK’ sign and then scooped up Merle for the trip back. “It’s been a slice. See you soon.”

Magnus, Merle, dogs and all zipped away in a small cloud of dust, leaving Kravitz the alleged trouble of getting his two closest treasures to bed.


	58. Reader Request #133

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On chapter 53 of Tumbl'd 3
> 
> If Kravitz decided to stay as a half-elf, would he eventually go trough luume? I have a feeling he'd either be real easy to deal with, like you'd barely notice he's in luume beyond some possessiveness. Or he'd be worse than Taako. Either way it would be fun to read about him going "Mine" on Taako and Angus.
> 
> P.S your fics help me get through my week! -- beauty-grace-aroace

Some choices can have... interesting consequences. Kravitz hadn’t thought much of his choice to be half-Elven. It helped him fit in with his little family. It also helped him experience things from an Elven perspective. It helped him understand both Taako and little Angus.

What he did not understand was the sudden onset of a feverish sensation. He was dead. He couldn’t catch anything meant for mortals. He couldn’t pass anything along, either, which was a boon to his family.

 _His_  family. His loving husband. His gorgeous little boy. Kravitz bent over their son and smooched Angus’ brow, surprised anew at the purr that came out of him. This was good. This was his. As was Taako, in the middle of an almost-typical breakfast argument with his sister.

“Too many sweet things, baby bro. You need some savoury.”

“Savoury, maybe, not five fucktons of chilli sauce. There’s a baby at the table, babe.”

“Well, you’re feeding him garlic by the bulb, babe.”

“By the  _clove,_  sweetheart. By the  _clove._  Anyway, weren’t you complaining about not feeding Ango enough savoury stuff -mmm- two minutes ago?”

Angus laughed at the ongoing debate. He had his pick of all kinds of food and amazingly chose a complete breakfast. 

“How’s my best baby boy?”

“Absolutely fine, Daddy,” Taako teased.

“He’s got some horrible business thing going on today, so I’m stealing the ba--”

SNAAARRLLL... Kravitz shook at the sound before he realised it was  _him_  making it.  _“My_  baby,” he growled.

The twins turned, eyebrows raised in an unconscious mirror of each other. They looked Kravitz over from top to toe and back again. “Hmm,” said Lup. “Hey, Bar-bear...”

Barry surfaced from the book he’d been reading. “Hanh?”

“Can you steal Taako for like five seconds, babe?”

The next thing Kravitz knew, he had a confused Angus under one arm, and Taako behind the other, snarling at Barold and defending Taako from his own sister.

“Yyyup,” said Lup.

Taako’s hand wasn’t very warm, any more. Kravitz rumbled a confused mrrrowp? kind of noise. Part concern, part not understanding what the flying hell was going on.

“Yeah,” sighed Taako. “It’s Luume.”

“It’s what?”

“You’re over two thousand years old, babe,” said Taako. “And you’ve never had The Talk?”

“I’ve....”  _Mine, mine, mine mine!_  “Never had....”  _Mine!_  “Never had Luume before.”

“I’ll call around and cancel your plans, baby bro,” soothed Lup. “And let Bird Mom know her feathery son is occupied for the foreseeable future.”


	59. Reader Request #134

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VesperRiver on Chapter 7 of Baby Angus Adventures  
> Maybe some time in the middle of taakos pregnancy with angus? I don't really have anything specific lol
> 
> [AN: Technically, you could get some of that from Chapter One of Baby Angus Adventures, but... I'm'a do this anyway]
> 
> cw: vomiting

It never failed. Conquer the horrible thing that one had been stressing over since whenever, just have enough time to relax... and catch a fucking disease. Something about all the stress chemicals going away and letting the immune system fall over from exhaustion or some shit. All Taako knew about it was that he was sick of hurling his guts up in the wee small hours of the dawning twilight.

He was sick of being sick. He was tired of being tired. He wanted to lean on his sister, but her bod wasn't done cooking yet and all he could do was nod off and fall through her.

"You okay, there, Koko?"

"...don't mind me, I'm dying," Taako mumbled.

Lup's resplendent fires banked a little. She knew that when Taako was being melodramatic, he was going to be fine. It was when he went silent that he was truly in danger. This odd mixture of melodrama and quiet gave her concern. "Tell me what's up?"

Taako made the 'I dunno' noise. "Tired all'a time. Sick all'a time. I feel gross and I dunno why. It's horseshit."

Lup's fire-burning eyes flared as she invoked one of her Creepy Spells that she'd learned from Barold. "Oh boy," she said. "Oooooh dear..."

Taako was not there for this shit. "Either tell me what's up or fuck off and let me slip into a coma..."

"You and Ghost Rider got frisky after we won, didn't ya?"

Taako opened one eye to glare at her. Gods, she was in Gloat Mode. He didn't have the energy to deal with Lulu in Gloat Mode. "...i sweartafuck if you start singing  _I Know Something You Don't Know..."_

"Ease your jets, babe, it's cool. You -ah- might want to do The Test, though. Tomorrow morning."

He heard the capitals. He only knew how to listen for them from the number of scares Lulu had had in their less-educated past. "I'm a dude, Lulu..."

"Not entirely," she singsonged. "Remember the garbage from my transition?"

Oh yeah, she'd got a discount because some equipment was... whoops. That did happen from time to time, but never before to  _him._ "Do you see it? With that Creepy Spell?"

"Eyes of Soulsight, fuck yeah," said Lup. "A little tiny new star in your constellation, bro. _Just_ trying to grab hold of living. It's adorable."

So. The Test would only confirm what his sister had already seen. "Mmmnnfff..." He pulled a pillow over his head. "Go gloat elsewhere b'fore I throw up through you."

When he woke, Lulu had cooked him some nutritious and delicious fry-up that could potentially hold the recommended daily nutrients for  _three_ days in one helping. She  _had_ been paying attention. In the rare moments when he was hungry, it was this bullshit that he inevitably cooked. All the good things in one gross package. All of it still warm under a Cover of Preservation.

He had the best sister in the world.

As Taako sat up, a sign fell off him. It read,  _Glass Cannon Out of Order._

Okay, scratch that. He was going to fucking kill her all over again.


	60. Reader Request #135

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NorthernAurora on Chapter 58  
> This is gold! Absolutely pure gold! I love it :D  
> Is it to much to ask for a follow up?

Kravitz was brooding. In this case, it meant he was huddled protectively over and around his family. Raven-hued wings spread over Taako and Angus as he glared menacingly at anything and everything that could possibly be a threat. He had made a nest out of everything soft that he could lay his hands on. Well. Everything soft that he could grab whilst also protecting Angus and Taako from everything he saw as a threat. In this case - literally everything else.

"Sir?" said Angus. "How long does this last?"

"It takes as long as it takes, baby," Taako seemed to be enjoying the chance to chill, even if he was technically under the highly-protective warmth of his husband's wings. "Just sit back, relax, and take it easy. Nothin's gonna stop it 'till it's done."

Lup, though she was  _thoroughly_ enjoying every minute of this, had managed to find a reprieve from Kravitz's hostility by providing snacks.

"Put that fuckin' Orb of Recall away, sis," Taako muttered on her latest orbit.

"And deprive all my loyal followers on Fantasy YouTube? Absolutely not! This is fucking gold, babes."

Taako made a rude gesture. "Show  _that_ to your followers on Fantasy YouTube.  _Babe."_

"I wi-i-ill..." she singsonged. She sashayed back to the kitchen to take more finger foods out of the oven. Owing to her shitstirring nature, she had shaped literally everything like bugs and worms. Her latest batch of Spider Cookies were steaming in golden-brown perfection. They had yet to cool, so it was the Gooey Worms that came to the nest.

"I guess the plus side, we won't go hungry," sighed Angus. "I had a presentation, today."

"Good excuse to not talk in public, eye em oh," said Taako, flipping his sister the bird whilst he snagged a confectionary 'worm'. Kravitz, leaning over his two charges, gave her a very birdlike hairy eyeball. Not helped at all by the fact that his features had morphed into a more birdlike aspect during the... influence.

Barry, watching over the entire circus, said, "This might end in retribution when he comes back to himself."

"Aaaah, that's future Lup's problem."


	61. Reader Request #136

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> Baby!Angus’s first Candlenights? Either present opening, Candlenights dinner, or watching Taako stress over Candlenights dinner

“Any particular reason why your spawn is in a highchair, babe?”

“Several,” said Apa, who was doing several things at once only moreso,  with extra anxiety on the side. Angus could tell. Apa always whisked or mixed faster when he was stressed about something. “One, he likes to be tall. Two, poor baby’s got a little of the separation anxiety and he’s happier when he can see what Apa’s doing. Three, we’re learning some words.”

“Any interesting ones?” teased Aunty Lup.

“Chop,” said Angus, who thought it was interesting to watch the knives turn things into chunks. “Chop, chop, chop... ‘lice! Chop, ‘lice, dice.”

“Aaaw, that’s too adorable. You’re sure I can’t steal him?”

“Go fuck’n make your own.”

“Duckie,” echoed Angus.

“Almost, sweetling. We got us a goose. Gooooose...” Which was a big pink blob somewhere beyond Angus’ range of focus. “Which counts as a dire duck, I  _think...”_

“Only on that one world with the mega-versions of everything. Can Aunty Lulu help Ango make Maple Thumbprint Cookies?”

Angus jiggled in his chair and giggled in excitement. Cooking with Aunty Lup was the  _best!_  He got to be all kinds of messy and could play with the dough and it was always super tasty afterwards. “Map’l Lulu!”

“I think that’s a ‘yes’.”

“You’re still not stealin’ my baby, sis.”

“Oh, just make the stuffing, we’ll be making a mess. Won’t we, Ango?” Aunty Lup picked him up out of the high chair and gave him a cuddle as they danced around and she sang. “It’s a mes-sy bab-y Can-dle-nights, that’s how you know it’s fuuunnnnn... If the baby’s mess’d from top to toe, then the fun has just be-guuunnnn...”

Angus wriggled in her arms and laughed and said, “Map’l, map’l, map’l!”

Angus got to add ingredients to the bowl, and turn the handle of the sifter, and help Aunty Lup stir everything together. He got to squish the dough and leave handprints in it. He had to sit and watch as Aunty Lup added special sweet jelly to the handprints, and was yawning in his seat when they went into the oven.

“Aaawww... someone’s ready for Santa’s visit...”

“Merle better not give him a godsdamned potplant. Augh! My seasoning!”

“I’ve got ‘im, Dove. You worry about the food.” Papa had Angus in his arms and there was bath time and PJ’s and tucking in to his cradle cote with the most patient of the cats as a teddy bear.

There were delicious smells when he woke, and the cat who was with him oozed out into the bigger, greater expanse of the house tree. Angus crawled out to the opening of the larger cote to see a whole lot more grownups than usual. He could spot Apa and Aunty Lup in the kitchen, and the big shape with the blue legs  _had_  to be Uncle Barry.

“Heeeyyy, it’s the pipsqueak.” The big fuzzy shape resolved itself into Uncle Magnus. “Hello, Master Angus. Shall I be your transportation, this morning?”

“Up! Up!”

Uncle Magnus had a  _lot_  of Up to spare. Angus laughed to be yeeted briefly above everyone else’s heads.

“Oi! Careful with him...” said Papa.

“I’m careful, chill out.”

There were colourful things under the mountainous Candlenights tree. Angus could only see blobs, but they sure got his attention. They twinkled along with the fairy lights and had NOT been there the night before. One of the cats emerged from the depths over them, stretching as it went.

“Aaaah!” Angus pointed. “Colours!”

“Lots of colourful  _presents,_  yeah,” cooed Uncle Magnus. “The star of the show’s noticed the  _presents,_  and good old Santa has been here.”

“You guys owe me a new lumbar support,” grumbled Grampa Merle from under a host of cats. He was stationary, squishy, and warm. Three things the cats adored. There may or may not have been a bonus fourth with the things that were always in his beard. Angus couldn’t tell from this far away.

Apa dusted himself off. “Okay, the goose is getting cooked, we can hand out presents, now.”

“Pwesents,” echoed Angus.

_“That’s_  the Candlenights spirit,” cooed Aunty Lup. “Gimmie love, gimmie lots, gimmie Candlenights trove.”

“That hardly rhymes, Lulu.”

“Grinch!”

Uncle Magnus put Angus down near Papa, who had distribution duty. “Oh, this one says it’s for a special little boy.”

“Must mean me,” joked Grampa Davenport.

“It’s from  _Santa,”_  rumbled Apa. “That means it’s for the baby.”

The present fit neatly into Angus’ lap, and the colourful paper was fun to play with. So much fun that he almost didn’t notice when some of it tore.

“Well, the wrapping paper’s a hit...”

“He’s not quite a year old, Luce. Let him discover.”

Oh! There were things  _inside_  the bright colourful outsides! This one was a bouncy ball! Angus tossed it up and watched it swirl with colours and sparkles as it bounced to a stop and, of course, got attacked by a couple of cats. He crawled after it, laughing. Trailing ribbons and paper that the cats pounced upon, much to the hilarity of all.

Hours passed by like that, with ripping paper and ribbons and  _so_  many fun things and cats pouncing and laughter and... and  _then,_  there was the feast. An entire table full to the brim with delicious food and a golden-brown roast goose and thumbprint cookies and things wrapped in other things and  _so_  much colourful stuff. Angus wanted to try it all.

He said, “YAH!” to everything, even the dreaded  _vegetables,_  because Apa and Aunty Lup made it all look and smell so attractive.

This just  _had_  to be the best day in the whole world!


	62. Reader Request #137

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Prompt: Pocket Angus McDonald

In Taako’s defence, he never thought he had to run a perception check whilst packing for an adventure. That was his line and he was sticking to it. Even with an actual baby on the battlefield.

“I’m not a baby,” insisted Angus McDonald, fresh out of Taako’s Pocket Spa and smelling of pumpkin spice, for some reason. Also an actual baby. “I  _am_  twelve, sir.”

“Horseshit,” said Taako reflexively. “You were eleven, last year.”

“That’s kind of how years work, sir. They pile up.”

“That’s nice,” said Taako. “Keep your baby head down or you won’t be getting any more pile.”

“I’m not a ba--”

“FUCKING DUCK!” Taako shoved him down, moving into the way of some bad guy’s overpowered arcane blast. He shot something from his Umbrastaff, but it didn’t look good for the world’s favourite flipwizard.

Taako fell. Singed to a crisp. Down to negative hit points.

“SIR!” Angus readied his wand and fired off the heaviest-hitting spell he knew, one of Taako’s specials. “Abraca-fuck  _you!”_

Frankly, it was amazing that it took the bad guy down. Angus didn’t have that many levels nor that many spell slots. The heroes of Story and Song would later claim that they had softened the big bad up for him.

But that wasn’t important to Angus right now. He ran to Taako, frantic, and poured a healing potion into his mouth. “Sir! Are you all right, sir?”

“...I canonically cannot die,” murmured Taako. He opened his mismatched eyes and smiled. “There’s my beautiful magic boy...”

“Sir, you nearly  _died.”_

“Key word - nearly. That’s the important part,” he sat up and ruffled Angus’ hair. “Chillax, okay? Taako’s gonna be  _fine.”_

“What the hell were you doing here, kid?” Magnus demanded. “That was fuckin’ dangerous. Never do that again!”

“Ease off, Magnuts. He saved my life. Technically.”


	63. Reader Request #138

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manga_Otaku121344 on Chapter 60:  
> Did I just read all three of these instead of doing my term paper? Yes. Do I regret it? Not really. Who wants to write a lot review when they could read these good good fics?
> 
> Anyway, I have a request if you are interested. Could you do Lup finding out she’s pregnant, being pregnant, or just being with her baby in general? Any sort of thing that falls along those lines?
> 
> [AN: CW for vomit mentions]

Here's the thing about the famous Twins of Story and Song. They are most definitely  _not_ morning people. After a literal lifetime of being forced to wake and work at sparrow fart or earlier, they dived headlong into sloth like it was owed to them... and it probably was. At the first opportunity to lay back, relax, and sleep until at  _least_ noon-thirty, they did so. Often with a glorious disregard for anything anyone thought of them for doing that. Therefore, for one of them to be up in the morning - let alone retching in the bathroom - something had to be major league amiss.

Lup clung to the porcelain and burped dangerously, waiting for the nausea to either go away or kill her, whichever happened first. Frankly, she didn't care at this point. It was  _that_ kind of nausea.

"Babe? Are you okay?" Barry, used to the Twins' slumber habits from a century on board the Starblaster, had woken to find his wife missing and was now having a large concern.

"I'm dying," she said. "I just wish it'd hurry up..."

This was typical Twin melodrama. Whatever illness struck them, they were always 'dying' of it. Taako always laid it on with a trowel unless he really  _was_ dying. Lup, on the other hand, had two modes - vocal demands for servitude in her last hours, or hushed nihilism. The latter was her 'serious biz' mode. The latter was what she was doing right now.

Barry felt her pulse and her forehead and carried her to the comfiest cuddle nook so he could place her in a convenient breeze. "You're not dying yet, babe. Istus promised us both a long and happy and normal lifespan. Remember?"

"...she fucked up... 'm dying..." Another dangerous burp. "...don' wanna feel like this f'r six hunnerd years... Kill me..."

Barry cast Cooling Compress and kissed her cheek. "I'll make you some ginger honey tea, that's been helping you for a while now."

The clues hit her like a freight train after five sips of the tea. "Wait," she said. Recurrent nausea for more than two weeks... A continual craving for protein-rich food... The fact that I don't even remember the last time I--" Oh shit. Oh fuck. "Where's my Stone, I gotta call the gods."

"Uh. Honey. You know asking Istus about stuff doesn't do much good. She only ever says 'Spoilers'."

"She knows I'll kick her ass if she tries that with  _this_ kind of question. Gimmie my fuckin' stone, babe..."

 

* * *

 

Taako was on the floor. Tears in his eyes. Ribs aching. Almost breathless with laughter. This was the funniest thing since Magnuts had slammed one of Robbie's Fuckup Potions and tried to ask Avi to go on the mission with them.

"Dove?" said Kravitz.

"I'm going to give him five more minutes," sighed Lup, "and then I'm kicking his ass."

Taako gasped to a temporary halt, trying to pull himself upright and rolling ones. "You asked..." was all he said before collapsing into fits of laughter.

"Four," said Lup like a burning fuse.

"You asked the  _goddess_ of _Fate_ if--" more ability-stopping hilarity.

"Three..."

"You asked Istus..." barking coughs of laughter, "...if you were pregenonent..." and he was down on the floor again.

Barry said, "You shouldn't have told the  _whole_ story, babe."

Lup sighed and, speaking over Taako's high-pitched yawps of unholy glee, said, "We're twins. We share  _everything."_

"...pregenonent..." gasped Taako.

_"Please_ cast Calm Emotion?" begged Barry. "Before someone dies?"

Lup's hands ignited.

"Hurry?" added Barry.

 

* * *

 

There were two swaddled bundles in the crib. Holding hands, yet contriving to look pissed off about their circumstances. Lup didn't need to open her eyes to know that someone was looming over it. Someone always was. She did need to peek to see who it was this time.

Taako. Looking remarkably soft and slightly teary-eyed.

"Don't even think about stealing them," Lup murmured.

"I dunno how you did it," he said, oddly serious for him. "You and the nerdlord made some gods-damned cute niblings for me."

"Newborn, messy, needy niblings," said Lup. "You steal any of them now, you got three AM feedings and diapers to worry about."

Taako appeared to consider this. "You make a good point. I'll steal them when they're toilet trained." He wiped his eyes. "Do they have names, yet?"

"They're girls, apparently." Lup took a micro-nap. Not that anyone could blame her. Having babies was a tough gig. "I've named them after the best people I know. Koko and Mema."

After Memala... their long-absent mother. Taako sniffled and sucked in his lips for a moment. "Could'a named 'em Koko and Lulu..."

Lup snorted. "Nah. You go steal a baby and name it after me. Or figure out how to make your own and do that thing."

"Sounds like a deal," said Taako, and held her hand as she drifted off after a long and difficult night's work.


	64. Reader Request #139

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> Okay, adopted!Angus when he’s like 15 who is on a case and runs into Kravitz because he had quite yet realised he was tracking down a necromancer and temporarily gets spelled into being a 6 month old.

“Angus Fortitude McDonald!”

In spite of being nearly sixteen years old, in spite of that being almost an adult. In spite of that age already being an adult in many species that just happened to not be his own... Angus jumped in his hiding spot. He turned, pasting on the world’s fakest ingratiating smile, to face one of his adopted dads.

“Hello, sir...”

Dad had his Stern Reaper Face on. It held little to no fears for Angus, because Dad often used his skeletal visage to emphasise how much it was past his bedtime. What did give Angus some trepidation were the multiple reasons why his dad could be here and now. All of them resulted in the conclusion that he, Angus McDonald, world’s greatest detective, was in deep,  _deep_  crap.

“Don’t ‘hello sir’ me, son... what the fuck are you even  _doing_  here? You said you were out on a case.”

“I am out on a case, sir. I’ve traced the cult to this location. I was just about to take some notes.”

_“I’m_  just about to take in some dangerous necromantic bounties, maybe you should--”

Too late. One of the cultist nutcases had found them. They fired off one spell. Kravitz leaped into action, scythe of office whirling. Bounties were reaped, and a battle was epic, but a father’s mind was constantly concerned about the fate  of his son. He wasn’t dead - he would  _know._  That thought alone was enough to keep him moving forward. Angus was alive, he reasoned, therefore Angus was safe.

He was - in a very technical way - right and wrong at the same time.

Angus was alive, true. Angus was safe - technically. He was still exactly where Kravitz had left him after the Reaper leaped into action. This was because the spell used had de-aged Angus McDonald to a state of complete helplessness. As Kravitz found out to his detriment when the Reaping was done.

Angus McDonald was much, much smaller now. So small that not a single one of his former garments fit him any more. He could sit up, wobbling slightly as he did so, and stare in confusion at the world  around him because literally everything was a blur.

Angus McDonald was both  _nearly_  sixteen and  _technically_  six months old.

“Oh fuck,” Kravitz sighed. “Taako’s going to fucking kill me.”

* * *

 

Taako did not, actually, fucking kill him. At first, he gasped in glee and cooed, “You stole me a  _baby!_  Aw, thanks, sugar skull. I was getting a little empty-nesty around here... Hello da baba... hello...?”

Since Taako’s arms were full of prodigy progeny, Kravitz decided to break the truth. “Uh. Dove? This one’s a baby we stole earlier...” He drew out the signature satchel, glasses, fancy lad cap... and the wand on a lanyard. Laying them on a nearby tabletop.

“Angus?” Taako said, staring worriedly into the baby’s unfocussed eyes.

Baby Angus chortled and grasped for his Papa.

“Okay,” Taako started pacing, soothing the infant version of his teenaged son as he went. “Okay. Obviously not anyone’s fault. Guessed that much. So. How the fuck--?”

“Our cases collided and while we were arguing about it, one of them got a spell off.”

“No clue what it was? How to reverse it?”

“Not yet,” allowed Kravitz. “The good news is that all the necromancers are in ghost jail, so the Raven Queen and I are letting Lup play with them until they confess.”

Taako smiled. “My sister’s on the job, and it’s a job she loves. We’ll have this sorted in no time.”


	65. Reader Request #140

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> atticusblackwolf on Chapter 61 of Tumbl'd 3:  
> Super cool that you wrote everyone as fuzzy shapes! That's an angle I dont think I've seen before.
> 
> Could you write a chapter where they realise he needs glasses and Angus seeing for the first time? I'm thinking that kind of scenario is right up your alley.

"What's with the long face, babe?"

Taako said, "You were on the Fantasy News, this morning."

"And I pretty much smashed it, right?"

"That's not what concerned me," said Taako. "Uh. Ango... was pointing and saying 'Apa'."

Lup snorted. "Chill out, baby bro.  _Merle_ couldn't tell us apart for like ninety-eight years."

"Merle  _still_ thinks we're fuckin' identical," grumbled Taako. "Also... watch this." He handed the very small child one of his favourite books. "Who's that?"

Ango picked up the book and brought it right up to his face. "Sleep Sheep!"

"Oh shit," said Lup. "So much for his Elf eyes, huh?"

Taako sighed, "Yeah, baby's gotta go to the optometrist..."

 

* * *

 

"Now these should stay on, but if they drop off, we have a free repair and replacement policy." The glasses were more like goggles, with an adjustable strap instead of earpieces. "These come with a hard case to put them away in for bedtime and a free Fantasy Microfibre cloth for cleaning."

"Okay, pumpkin, hold still for a sec'." Taako wrestled a little as he put the goggles on over his toddler son's head.

Angus wriggled initially and then boggled as a new focus swam into view for the first time. He took a deep breath in. "I SEE THE WHOLE WORLD!"

Taako chuckled, "Well, you got a good start on it anyway. Can you see Dad?"

Angus found Krav easily, and pointed. "There's Dad. And Aunty Lup!" And then, a true sign of doom, "I see doughnuts! Can I have some doughnuts?"

Well, that was one feature of sharp eyes that Taako wasn't going to be grateful for any time soon. All those times they'd passed by the candy aisle were going to be a thing of the past, for sure. "Two doughnuts," he allowed.

The kid was going to spend all fucking  _day_ reading every single shopfront, and Taako could for sure deal with that.


	66. Nonny Request #119

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Perhaps one night shortly after being adopted by Taako and Kravitz, Angus has a nightmare but doesn’t yet realize that he’s allowed to seek comfort from his parents.

[AN: Sorry for taking WAY too long to get to this. My life is chaos with a side-trip to bedlam]

It was dark, and Angus was scared. He could smell the reek of ammonia and felt a chill that should not have come with the heavy blankets weighing him down. He lay stock still, trying to make the shape of something familiar out of the shadows.

If he moved, if he made a sound, if he cried... he would be sent to the Quiet Room. Angus strained his ears for the faintest creak of bedsprings, tried to find shadows in the darkness that meant that one of the other boys was taking aim.

Carefully, he slid one hand up to grab his pillow. If he could get it before he heard the slide of pyjama pants, he could curl up completely under the shield of its bulk and let the stream pool around him. He’d get in trouble for the pool unless he stayed under the pillow until dawn.

He hated that. He hated hardly being able to breathe for the stench and for the claustrophobic space under the pillow and the faint mildew stink of the pillow stuffing. It always felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Angus barely started to bring his feet up when a weight dropped on the bed. There was nothing like it in his memory, and he remembered a lot of horrible things. He screamed without thinking about it. Cringed and held his breath as the tears began to sting. He didn’t  _want_  to go into the Quiet Room! He hadn’t done anything wrong!

Instead of the ungentle footfalls of Nurse Stronginthearm, he heard a pattering of footfalls and a snap as lights came on. This was... this was not the orphanage. The weight on his bed was one of the household cats, currently kneading the comforter and glaring at Angus as if  _he_  was the asshole.

There was a blur in the doorway. The colours were all wrong for the orphanage. Angus tightened up in his huddle and at least tried to keep it to a whimper.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” singsonged the blur with golden hair. “You got your glasses right here, sweetie. Here they are...” Dusky brown hands offered his familiar frames.

Angus’ hand shook as he took them, and he couldn’t stop breathing hard as the blur resolved into one of his adopted dads. Mr Taako.

“...’m sorry sir...”

“It’s okay, pumpkin, nightmares in a new place are natural. You want me to sit with you?”

The cat was still treadling the comforter. It was now concentrating on its biscuits and not getting involved in the drama. Another one jumped up and the two felines wrestled with each other in a non-serious manner.

“...’es please,” Angus managed.

Taako sat on the bed, offering his presence as comfort. “I lost count of the nightmares I had whenever I was in a new place,” he said. “It was always the same kind’a dream. I was trapped in the worst place I’d ever been in before.”

Oh. Oh that was... way too close to the bone. He said, “You too?”

“Absolutely. Kind’a a handful of assholes after Saint Vingo’s, I gotta tell ya. After I lived through that one, everywhere else was a field of daisies.” He reached to touch Angus’ hair, but stopped when Angus flinched away. His hand hovered in the air for a couple of seconds but lit once more in his lap. “You were back in the bad place again, weren’t’cha?”

Angus nodded.

“Okay. Okay. Did you ever get into trouble for snapping your fingers?”

“...dunno how to do that, sir...”

Mr Taako showed him, demonstrating and always asking to touch before he did so. He remembered so many bad places. He knew what they could do to a kid. He knew that healing wasn’t easy. He knew that even the smallest things could cause abject terror at a moment’s notice.

“One snap is a little sound,” said Mr Taako. “They can’t track one snap. And it kind’a puts off any targeters, y’know. They think you  _got_  something on ‘em.” Mr Taako had a very knowing smirk, “I can teach you a li’l bit of my tricks, too. Give you an edge.”

One of the cats investigated Angus’ lap. It was warm and soft and friendly. The world seemed safer already, especially after he learned how to snap the lights on at a moment’s notice. Most especially after he learned that the Casa de Taako cats were the friendliest creatures in Faerun.


	67. Nonny Request #120

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we get a story where non Baby!Angus Ango does something that crosses enough of a line that Taako and Kravitz have to punish him? (Like ground him out put him on pooper-scooper duty at Magnus')

It was quite the crime scene. The miasma of burned sugar and almonds filled the house. Half a cake lay under a cover of preservation. Some blackened blobs of... something... lay on a baking tray. Bubbles were frozen in the blobs’ surface, and Kravitz noted with alarm that there was no parchment nor any baking paper between them and the tray, which meant that the tray was essentially ruined.

Opposite the cake and the tray was a spread of marzipan fondant, patterned with candy canes and snowflakes, as evidenced by the rolling pin with embossed shapes on it. There were holes cut in the layer, yuletide shapes of gingerbread men, snowmen, trees, and bells. There were those shapes of cookie cutters laying nearby, as well as a large spreader knife.

This was not a Taako experiment. This was... a series of bad assumptions.

The house was quiet, save for the pleading mewls of the household cats. It was past their dinnertime by nearly half an hour, so they were clearly starving to death. Wait. Not quite silent... there were two separate sets of sobbing.

One in Angus’ room, one in Taako’s.

Kids came first.

He found Angus trying to pack to run away from home. He had an umbrella, which he was clearly planning to use as a bindle stick, and a large scarf upon which he was laying out what he thought of as the essentials. Since he was actually only three and a half, those things were mostly toys and favourite books. And a family portrait.

“Packing to leave?” asked Kravitz.

“I have to,” sniffled Angus. “...’m evil now.”

Um. What? “Nobody turns evil overnight, kiddo... Tell you what... I’ll talk about this with Apa. I don’t know what went wrong,” he could guess, but... “Just like Caleb Cleveland, I need all the facts.”

Taako was in a depression ball inside one of his terrible Candlenights sweaters. The one with the googly-eyed reindeer on it, which he utterly  _despised._

“Dove? Is there anything you need?”

“...jar of super-crunchy peanut butter an’ a jar of fuckin’ peanuts.”

Aaah, crap. This was bad.  He had to be stern with one of them, and Taako was obviously the toughest. “Dove... Taako. I need to know what the fuck happened here. At least come out enough to talk to me.”

He’d let his glamour go, and his makeup run, and his hair tangle. This... was fucking  _terrible._

“He thought... my marzipan fondant... was  _sugar cookies._  And he tried t’ bake ‘em... while I was on the Stone to  _Marvellous Magic Magazine._  I told him to wait... He didn’t wait... Do you  _know_  how long it takes to make marzipan from  _scratch,_  Krav? Do you know  _how_  long that takes?”

Kravitz could guess ‘more than a little while’ and moved on to the next obvious question. “Why were you making marzipan from scratch, love?”

“Fucking  _Suzan_  and her gods-damned neighbourhood Candlenights’ party. Like fuck am I using anything  _store bought_  for anything I bring  _there.”_  He shuddered and sobbed. “And worse, that baking tray is fucking  _ruined..._  It was one of our wedding gifts...”

Kravitz wrapped around him and let him cry it out. “So our boy made some bad choices... In his defence, we  _had_  been making sugar cookies all week...”

A shuddering breath in. “I know...”

“He probably thought he was trying to help.”

“I know...”

“So what’s the real trouble?”

“I dunno what t’ do about this,” Taako whimpered. “I might’a overreacted...”

“Angus did tell me he was evil now... and was trying to run away from home.”

“...oh gods...” Taako broke down in incoherent blubbering, but the gist of his teary babbling was that he never wanted any baby to feel unwanted. He never wanted to make Angus feel like he was hated, that life sucked. He was a bad parent and so on and so forth.

Kravitz carried Taako to Angus room so they could both bawl out their apologies to each other under his wing. In this case, literally under his wing... because the shelter of his wings hd always helped both husband and son feel safe.

They finally wound down to coherent words. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait. I wanted you to be proud I could do it all by myself.”

“I’m sorry I overreacted, baby. You’re not evil. And you’re not... anything else I said, I swear I don’t remember a lot of it, and I never meant a word. Apa got way too upset about a silly mistake.”

“All right. Now for a new house rule. You cause a mess, you at least try to fix it.”

“Guess that means tryin’a scrub burned marzipan off’a the baking tray,” mumbled Taako. “I’ll put all your stuff back to rights. Then we all learn Fabricate because  _fuck_  making marzipan from scratch after  _this_  meltdown.”

Taako could re-order Ango’s room on his own, but Angus would need supervision to at least try to get rid of burned marzipan. It was hard work, for sure, and Angus was not allowed to use Prestidigitation to clean it. He had to understand how much recovery was involved in a mistake like this one.

Angus managed to chip most of the bubbly blobs off and scour two burned marks off the surface before Taako declared, “Okay. That’s enough. You’re gonna wait when I tell ya from now, aren’t you, Ango?”

“...’essir.”

“M’kay. Lesson learned. Now for a fun one. Fabricate...”


	68. Reader Request #141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been rereading your works, again, cuz their so good. And that one with Taako and Angus running into homophobe made me think, how would Kravitz react to homophobia? He is like several millenia old, and ancient cultures are a bit hit or miss on the whole sexualities thing. -- beauty-grace-aroace

[AN: I’ve headcanon'd Krav as being 2K+ years old but I suppose it doesn’t matter for the narrative...]

It was a word, in many ways much like any other word. In many ways, it was  _not_ like any other word. It had once been a weapon. It had once been his death. His hand slipped from Taako’s as his beautiful Elf husband whirled and said, “You’re just jealous that I  _know_  I got real love. I didn’t have to knock mine up to force him to stay.”

If the woman he was with showed any sign that that was true, Kravitz wasn’t watching for it. He was watching the unthinking man’s fists. Fearful of a fist for just a handful of seconds.

It was only a handful of seconds, though, before he remembered what he was, now. He went Reaper and said, “Beware, mortal, where your path might lead you.”

Somewhere outside his tunneled vision, Taako said, “Hot...”

The man with the foul mouth retreated, and Kravitz reverted to his mortal form. He was shaking. He was breathing fast. His knees wanted to give out.

“You okay, babe?” Taako was close. Warm. Holding him up more than a little.

“Bad memories,” he managed. His eyes stung.

“Not gonna lie, that was bad ass,” said Taako. “There’s a tea place real close t’ here. I gotcha. I gotcha.”

Taako’s perfume helped ground him. As did warm, sweet tea and some sweet foods that couldn’t hold a candle to Taako’s usual offerings.

“Breathe deep, babe. We won. Remember? Married and all.”

Kravitz wiped his face. “There’s still so much hate, all over the world.”

“Yeah. I’m taking the victories we got.”

“We haven’t really won until all the hate is gone.”

Taako sipped the tea. It was all key lime gogurt to him and, therefore, he couldn’t criticise. “Gonna be a long time winning, then,” he mumbled.

Kravitz reached out for his free hand. Held it tight. “Long as we’re together? I feel victorious enough.”


	69. Nonny Request 121

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For ficcy: I heard Stacy’s Mom at work today and it’s a fucking bop. Also made me think about Monty Pithon circus AU. What would happen if the twins (specifically Koko) found out another young circus member had a crush on Ming? Kinda like how Koko is thirsty for adult elves but it’s his mom.

[AN: Monty doesn’t need these levels of bullshit in his life. The poor snan(snake man) ]

Being a teenager is awkward for any species. Technically speaking, Elves can be teenagers  _twice._  Once in their actual teens, and again between their seventies and nineties, when they were handed all the responsibilities and expectations of adults and none of the freedoms. For an Elf, though, the time between their twenties and their eighties was just... too many years of awkwardness. On top of the harrowing experience of gaining on adulthood but being prevented from it, there was also the ever-increasing risk of a First Luume.

Or, as the young and lovelorn viewed it, the  _promise_  of a First Luume.

There was a thriving market of tawdry books on the topic from the penny press. Young Elf of either or an indeterminate gender with an older, more experienced, and above all  _understanding_  mentor in the bedroom. Usually following chapters upon chapters of dreamy longing on behalf of the younger Elf.

The mentor’s point of view, it might be noted, was conspicuous by its absence.

Young Elves of a certain age bought them by the  _ton_.

Taako, who discovered boys on the exact same day his sister did, had been buying, stealing, or borrowing books in that genre for more than a few decades. He had memorised the basic plot of all of them, but that never mattered. If he saw a new title with the plot of a young boy’s first time with an understanding older man, he would snatch it up quicker than you could say ‘impossible attraction’.

If he owned them, he read the covers off them. He read them to pieces. He daydreamed that plot over and over again. Always with himself in the arms of his biggest crush, Kustaad Trifel. He was vaguely aware that he was also the crush of Kustaad’s kid - Kri. What had almost skipped his notice was that Kri was starting to read Those kinds of books, too.

Kri had picked up a lot of habits from the Twins, up to and including loafing off on top of the caravan they slept in. Taako, coming up for air from a particularly nice climax in the penny novel he’d been reading, noticed that Kri was loafing off on the roof of the caravan he shared with  _his_  family. Kri  _also_  had a battered penny novel with a lurid cover, and the same dopey expression on his face that Koko had been wearing just a few moments before. He rolled over and looked towards the caravan Koko shared with his family -blood and and adopted alike- but not to the rooftop where Koko was lounging.

Kri’s gaze was fixed to the campsite below Koko’s little nest. A dreamy look that fixed solidly on... Koko’s adopted mother - La’Ming Ton. Currently in her riding leathers and scrubbing at a stubborn stain in the washtub.

_What?_  Koko lined up the angles to make sure. Okay. Ran an Insight Check just to be sure. Okay, fine. Good news: Kri was over his crush on Koko. Bad news... he now had a crush on  _La’Ming._

“...gross,” Koko muttered. He’d have to talk to the kid about this nonsense. Sort him out. Set things... back to normalcy.

He got his chance after dinner, sitting with his ex-crushee as they both worked their way through Lulu’s five-alarm stew. “So... uh. Gettin’ over the heartbreak okay?”

“Sure. I know having a crush on you was... a little bit immature.”

Koko didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved. “Into the more... uh... mature scene, eh?”

“Yeah,” sighed Kri, looking dreamily in the direction of La’ming... currently in the world’s ugliest khaftan and arguing with Lulu about exactly how many chili peppers the average intelligent lifeform could safely withstand.

“Yeah... uh...” Koko tried to figure out how to do this. “So... uh... Romance books are fine ‘n’ all... but -uh- reality’s kind’a... not that.”

Kri was a picture of innocence. “Why not?”

“Uhm. Well. People who write books... uhm... they don’t write stuff that actually happens?”

“They’ve got real names, though,” said Kri, whose picture of innocence might have used a little bit more scrutiny, but Koko was otherwise distracted.

“Yeah, but... uhm. The  _good_  adults? The ones who actually care? Uh... They... they’re more likely to -uhm- Have you heard of the ‘off switch’?”

“Oh, but the really good ones would want to help in the best way.”

“Uuuhhh... Depends on how you define that... I’ve met the bad ones, and... yeah. It’s not as great as the books make it sound.”

“Aaah, but they sound so nice,” he said. “I wanna help her through her next Luume...”

“Yeeks. Nope. No. Don’t go there. She’s gonna fuckin’ adopt ya, pal. You know why?”

“You mean the other kind of adopt... as a bedmate. A lifelong bond...”

“She’s old enough to be your  _parent._  She’s gonna adopt you as her  _kid_  because you  _are_  a kid. There’s no way a grown-ass adult is gonna want anyone like you because... they’re...” The ‘oh shit’ landed heavily on his heart and shattered it to bits. “...’cause they’re gonna feel like parents around us...” He wiped away the sting in his eyes. “It’s the bad ones who do the stuff in the books.”

All his daydreams came crashing down around him. He didn’t see much of the world outside his head from that moment on. He was peripherally aware of Lulu coming to comfort him, because she was the one person who could understand his pain before he could articulate it.

He certainly didn’t notice Monty, Kustaad, and a few other circus people slipping Kri some shiny new coins.


End file.
